Certain Schemes
by DealingDearie
Summary: When another of Thor's monumental mistakes causes Loki to wake as a mortal, the mischievous god is forced to cooperate with Thor's team of superheroes in order to both gain back his powers and protect the realms from a potentially catastrophic turn of events. Post-TDW.
1. Chapter 1

Wearing Odin's face had grown tiresome for Loki, on the ever increasing occasions that being king, though it brought a certain level of satisfaction, just couldn't keep his boredom at bay.

Whether it was a quiet dispute between Asgardian citizens or the slithering threat of war among the realms, Loki always found himself impatiently staring out the window, absently longing for something he couldn't name, and the kingdom was left none the wiser, obliviously under the impression that the All-Father was still alive, and that their king was ruling sublimely, just like any good monarch should.

On the days that Loki could actually be productive, he always ended up thinking of Frigga or Thor or even of his old companions-watching from one of the large palace windows with prying eyes as they sparred competitively in the courtyard. Sif's triumphant laughter brought back memories, and he'd close his eyes to let them play out in his mind, days long gone and people long vanished, eyes much lighter and smiles less hateful.

It was those exact kinds of memories that made him, briefly, yearn for something else, for the past or the future or another life, and in those moments Loki found himself as human as any mortal, awash with his remorse and his wishes. But that never lasted long, and he made sure to quell the thoughts, made sure to distract himself, before his mind went somewhere from which it could never return, but today was different.

Today, there were no common disagreements over a plot of land or stolen jewelry, no imminent threats made by disgruntled enemies, no disruption of life whatsoever, and Loki hated it. There were absolutely no distractions, no moments that could take him far from his thoughts, and his anxiety over the fact worsened with every uneasy pound of his heart, a meaty fist slamming down on the arm of the throne, Odin's wrinkled fingers curled in on themselves.

He'd never get used to the perspective, it seemed.

Today, Thor was on Midgard, reuniting with his mortal companions and his life there, and the dark haired prince wasn't sure what to think of that. On one hand, Thor was out of the picture, and his stupidity could never again so much as touch the throne while Loki reigned. On the other hand, Thor was _out of the picture_, and that left Loki with a deep yearning to fight, to yell, to laugh, and to do all of the things that brothers did.

It was a hopeless, futilely concocted dream that only served to burden the trickster, but he was helpless to it, and could do nothing more than watch, engrossed and silent, as Thor laughed with his friends, smiling at his mortal woman as they walked across the expanse of a grassy plain. The human term was whispered to Loki, like some distant part of his subconscious (_park)_.

Not caring to laugh at the odd stares he watched them receive, Loki wondered why they were in public, when so much of Manhattan had seen them just beyond a year ago, when so much of the world was now very, terribly aware of the heroes and their roles and their secrets. But the team didn't seem to mind the attention as they traipsed across the landscape like it belonged to them, exchanging stories and bellowing laughter and inside jokes.

Loki noticed that Barton was absent, along with the scientist, and frowned as he heard the incessantly sarcastic voice of Stark as the billionaire described his dealings with someone called 'Mandarin', and the Black Widow kept her pace with them, occasionally baring a small smile during the story.

As monotony went, Asgard had it the worst, and Loki-acting on the purest of instincts, the basest desire to be somewhere else, the naturalistic impulse to do _something_-was gone in a flash of light, too hurried to use the Bifrost and avoid suspicion.

Vanished was the view of Asgard and its waterfalls from the golden seat of the palace. Gone was the need to be active. Fading was the want for more. Dispersed was the echo of voices that so often haunted him when he walked down the halls.

There was only the acrid stench of Midgard and all its occupants, too oblivious of his magic to notice him sneaking down the sidewalk, striding across the wet grass to approach Thor. Of course, when he revealed himself in front of the team, the thunder god was the first to react, expressions of confusion and elation mingling across his features as he stepped forward in surprise.

"Father?" Thor asked cautiously, afraid that something horrible had happened, and Loki resisted the urge to mock him, his blue eyes so wide and wary and scared. Crossing his arms behind his back, Loki walked lazily up to Thor, and loosened Odin's strict gait to stand before the god, whose blue eyes sparkled with concern, cheeks flushed with worry.

"What has happened?" Thor asked hesitantly, Jane looking equally freaked out by the All-Father's presence as she stood firmly by the god's side.

Shrugging, and admittedly completely out of character, Loki smiled, crinkling the skin around Odin's eye and tainting his features with familiarly devilish darkness, eyes glinting in the daylight as passerby began to send odd, intrusive glances toward him and the group, mortal eyes glued to the scene and shining brightly with cautious fear.

"I just thought I'd pay a visit to the mortals you've grown so fond of, see how you've adjusted to your new life," he offered casually, his grey hair blowing past him in the light summer breeze. Thor's shoulders slumped as the tension coiled there dissipated, and he smiled kindly, relieved, putting a burly hand on Loki's shoulder, and immediately, Loki remembered when Odin would do that, the feel of his aged palm like a ghost lingering upon his skin.

Shaking off the sensation, he watched Thor with a sting of jealousy, wondering how such a man as Thor could obtain not only a new life, but a new mindset, a whole new realm of freedom and memories to be made. It was horribly sentimental of him, but Loki couldn't help the envy shining in his gaze when he at last met Thor's eyes, and the blonde's smile fell at the severity lying naked in Odin's expression. His hand fell, and he took a slow step back.

"You look troubled. Are you sure everything is alright?"

Perhaps it was boredom, or maybe it was the fact that Loki had absolutely nothing better to do, or just maybe it was the pure concern in Thor's eyes, the obvious worry that reminded the trickster of years gone by and moments now passed, of memories that couldn't just leave him alone. Whatever it was, Loki would never know, but he smiled then, and in a flash of light revealed himself to Thor, blowing both his cover as Odin and his claim to the throne, and the team behind Thor, oddly without their gear, instantly jumped away to prepare for a fight, grappling helplessly for their weapons, only to come up empty-handed.

He could catch the glint of panic in Natasha's eyes as she pulled Jane back to protect her, and Loki swore that he saw the mortal's hand twitch in preparation to slap him, the memory of her palm flattening against his face a vivid one. Thor reared back in shock, his eyes going wide and round and unblinking, lips parting with unadulterated surprise.

"What-Loki?!" Thor asked breathlessly, his voice going weak, breaths coming in short gasps as his hand clenched into a fist and relaxed right after, his eyes brimming with water.

"How? How are you alive?"

Loki smiled, his heart pounding with the liveliest feeling he'd felt for months, and his green eyes sparkled mischievously as he shrugged his shoulders loosely, smug.

"I was never dead, and you were just foolish enough to believe that I was," he murmured loudly enough so that the nosy citizens around him could hear, and he gave them steely glares to ward them off, and was relieved to see that they took the hint and hurriedly scurried away. Looking back to his brother and the comrades standing warily at his back, Loki laughed, adjusting his leather and armor, comforted by the familiar press of it on his skin after months of donning heavy metal chest plates and golden attire.

"I watched you die in my arms!" Thor roared angrily, stepping forward to grab Loki by the shoulders and shake him roughly.

"Why? Why would you lie?" The god rolled his eyes, grinning.

"You should have known that it wasn't that easy to kill me, Thor. It was better to pretend that I was dead, since you would have never been satisfied with staying in the kingdom to make sure I didn't do anything dastardly in prison, away from your precious mortal for so many irretrievable moments."

He pulled back from Thor's grip and his smile widened, and Thor felt his heart leap to his throat with the familiar pang of uncertainty at the contempt in his brother's eyes.

"Besides, this gave me a chance to finally rid Asgard of its horrid king." Mjolnir was instantly in Thor's grasp in the next moment, and Loki put up his hands defensively, laughing soundlessly. Thor's features contorted into a mask of sorrow as he stepped reluctantly forward.

"What have you _done_, Loki?" The god smiled as he saw Stark and the Captain beginning to circle him, and Natasha placed herself in front of Jane, taking up a fighting stance, and Loki's laughter took on a low pitch as he chuckled, looking up at the cloudless sky with the most amused gleam in his eyes.

"I always have a plan, Thor. You of all people should know that, after all the times I've saved your hide." Thor raised his hammer in one fist and balled up his other in Loki's collar, tugging him forward angrily.

"You and your _magic tricks._ What have you done to father?"

With his brow furrowed, Thor looked significantly angrier, and Loki, for a moment, rethought his previous decision to blow his cover, but settled on the fact that he couldn't change what he'd done, only the outcome of what was sure to be a painful fight with a seriously miffed prince, and Loki wanted to go out with a bang.

So, he straightened his back and prepared to get hit in the stomach with Mjolnir as he put on his cruelest smile, guaranteed to make Thor's ears burn.

"I took care of him, you know…"

And Loki swiped his hand across his throat in a broad, dramatically exaggerated arc, grinning as Thor's eyes lit up with renewed rage and grief.

The hammer hit his shoulder, and not his gut, and Loki was thrown back about twenty feet before sailing into a nearby tree, his back making painful contact with the branches, and he fell limply to the ground, struggling to gain his footing before Thor dealt another blow. Thor came soaring through the air just as Loki was able to stand straight, and, remembered from the many fighting lessons that had been so adamantly forced upon him, Loki planted his feet and twisted to the right, just missing Mjolnir as it flew past his head, and he pulled from the air a long scepter, turning back to ram it against Thor's chest as the god rushed to punch him.

He drove the handle into Thor's stomach and swept his feet out from under him when he doubled over from the blow, but Thor thrust up his hand to call his weapon and the hammer came flying through the air and plowed right into Loki's back, throwing him on his face upon the grass and making his back sear with pain, and he pushed himself up and grabbed his scepter, rolling his shoulders to stave off the discomfort as Thor came toward him for a second time.

Loki noticed the mortals in the background, their faces torn with indecision on whether or not to pitch in without their weapons, and he laughed before Thor elbowed him in the throat, taking his breath away as he struggled for air, grasping at his Adam's apple feebly and stumbling back in surprise. Thor brought down his hammer, but Loki swung his staff to intercept it and flitted away, swiping at Thor's legs with the scepter to shake his footing, and Thor jumped up to avoid it and called the clouds and the rain and the thunder above them, sending a blast of lightning toward Loki.

It went right through him, and his body vanished in a flash of light, and Thor stood there, confused, before Loki leaped from an overhanging branch to tackle his brother to the ground, rearing his fist back to drive it into Thor's face, repeatedly punching anywhere he could reach, before Thor kicked him off angrily, wiping blood from his chin and nose as bruises started to bloom on his skin. Before he could reach the trickster, Loki disappeared, leaving the god to once again wonder where he was, and he swiveled at the sound of whistling just in time to see the staff swinging at his head from behind, lifting his arm instinctively to block it.

When he lashed out at Loki, the man vanished in a flash of green, and suddenly, there were ten copies of him surrounding Thor, taunting him as each one darted just out of his grasp. He could hear Loki's laughter, sinister and darkly foreign sounds that chilled him to the core and fueled his anger, all around him while the clones converged upon him, each with a weapon pointed toward him. The instinct to protect himself took over, and Thor knew that if he could reach just one clone, then he could work his way through the crowd and weaken their forces, so he picked one at random and drove his hammer through its face, satisfied as it dissipated in the wake of the hit.

A burst of magic came passing by and plowed into his wrist, knocking Mjolnir out of his hand, and another wave of magic knocked him to the ground, stealing the breath from his lungs for a painfully long second.

While he strained to gain back both his advantage and his balance, one of the duplicates rushed forward and hauled him up by his collar, a pulsing light cupped carefully in his palm, and Thor could tell that whatever it was, it would hurt, and he knew that his hammer would never reach him in time to spare him from the pain, so he hastily fished out his one and only dagger-bestowed upon him when he'd been younger and defenseless in the face of an angry Bilgesnipe, when Loki had quickly tossed to him his most prized knife in the hopes of giving Thor a chance to fight-as the hand and the dangerous magic therein descended upon him, driving it hilt-deep into the soft spot of leather at the gap between his ribs, the sound of the clone's muffled gasp loud in the silent aftermath.

The light in his hand went out instantly, and he brought his arm around to grasp at Thor's fingers, curled around the dagger's golden, decorative hilt, and Thor's eyes widened.

_The illusion wasn't disappearing._

Surprised, Thor pulled the dagger out of Loki's stomach, and the god made a soft sound as he did, pressing his palm to the wound, trails of crimson dripping down the black leather as blood poured from the hole in his gut. He stumbled away and Thor stood, rooted to the spot, blinking impassively as his eyes became teary, and he rushed forward as Loki dropped to his knees upon the grass, his arms limply falling at his side as he started to sway toward the ground.

Holding him by his shoulders, Thor wrapped his arms around his back and tugged him closer as he finally collapsed, dark blood coating his fingers and shining in the sunshine cascading down on them in rays of yellow. Loki shook in his arms, taking in short gasps of air that rattled in his body, eyes wide and round with pain. The team stood motionless, shocked, and watched as Thor sniffled, shaking his head rapidly as stray strands of his air tossed about in the wind.

"I'm…I'm so sorry. I didn't-I didn't know. I didn't know," he whimpered, tears dripping down his face, pulling Loki closer as he cried remorsefully. Loki struggled to breathe as Thor pressed a hand to his wound in a futile effort to quell the bleeding, and trembled from the numbing sensation on his skin, shaking with the cold.

"Loki," Thor murmured brokenly, gripping Loki's shoulders with an iron hold as the trickster relaxed his head against the god's arm, his chest rising faintly as his hand fell aside, fingers brushing the delicate blades of grass beneath them and painting their tips crimson. Thor panicked and pulled his brother closer, shaking him slightly to keep him awake as he put a thick hand to his cheek, flinching at how cold Loki was.

"_Please_, don't leave. _I'm sorry_."

Slowly, Loki's eyelids fell closed, and his skin paled with the chill that overtook his body, distantly reminding Thor of the touch of a Frost Giant, and the unreliable movement of his chest stilled, his body going limp. Thor shouted mournfully, pulling his brother's form to his chest as he cried, and he rocked back and forth, the clouds above turning dark with his grief, fat droplets of water starting to rain down on them as he yelled to the sky above until his throat was raw.

Uncertain, the rest of the team inched carefully forward, and Jane went and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her chin to his neck and actively avoiding looking down at Loki. After minutes of Thor crying into Jane's sleeve, Steve gently pulled him away, despite his protests, and Thor shoved him back forcefully, face red with heat.

"No! I won't leave him like this, not again. I…we have to take him with us and bury him properly."

Stark gave Natasha a disagreeing look, but she responded with a scolding expression before hauling Loki up by his arms, hooking her hands beneath them, and Stark reluctantly grabbed his boots, and Thor called Mjolnir to him with shaking fingers.

Making an effort to carry the dead god, Tony was out of breath far too soon, and he had to trade shifts with Steve on the ridiculously long trip to the Tower. All the while, Jane clasped Thor's hand in hers consolingly, and murmured endearingly to him as they ignored the fearful and curious expressions of the pedestrian population around them. Hurriedly, they finally reached the tower-turned-headquarters and made the long trek up to the penthouse, where they deposited Loki's body on the sofa, much to Tony's dismay.

Thor situated his brother's limbs as if to make him feel comfortable, and Jane frowned sadly as he took a seat beside his brother, face wet with tears and fingers shaking with adrenaline as he stared at his brother lying motionless on the cushions. Natasha sighed heavily and spoke up.

"Thor, you have to-"

"No," Thor interrupted stonily, his voice trembling weakly.

"We have to find a way. I-I didn't know. I _thought_ he was _an illusion_. I made a mistake and now I have to fix it."

He looked up and Steve could recognize the determined gleam in his eyes after so many years of seeing it shining in Bucky's own stare, and the Captain ducked his head, not too keen on bringing back to life a mass murderer, but the desperation laced in Thor's voice turned him sympathetic, and he threw up his hands, defeated.

"How do you expect to bring someone back from the dead?" Thor looked down seriously, as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind, and he sighed.

"There is a realm, we can go there and search for him-"

Tony snorted and slid over to the bar, distractedly pouring himself a much needed drink.

"The realm of the dead? _Great_. Let's go there and risk our lives for a guy who tossed me out the window like a ragdoll, or better yet, the guy who _killed Coulson_."

He rolled his eyes and swished his drink around, turning to shake his head in disapproval.

"Yeah, let's do that, but first, let's get him off my furniture before the cushions get blood stains. Pepper just bought that couch; she'd kill me if Loki leaked all over it."

Thor stood angrily, his hands balled into fists, brow furrowed.

"Be careful of how you speak!" Tony waved a dismissive hand at the god and lazily made his way over to the opposite couch, plopping down tiredly on its seat.

"Yeah, he's still your brother blah, blah, blah. We've heard it before." As Thor began to come toward him, Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise, but a blinding flash of light bathed the room in white, and the team shielded their eyes from the visual assault as the atmosphere felt heavy with electricity.

The light retreated to a single source, and Thor stumbled back onto the sofa near Loki, squinting to see, and Natasha stood, curious, between Jane and Steve, unsure of what to do.

Finally, a figure stepped out of the blinding haze, a slender woman wrapped in silky cloth, the wispy ends of her dress trailing after her as if suspended, her hair as white as the clouds to their left. Her pale skin gave off a silvery glow, and her eyes lacked all color, round orbs looking pointedly at Loki's body as she glided across the room to reach him.

The scotch glass slipped from Tony's hands and he sat, staring, and Jane felt a sudden fear grip her, persistently urging her to run, but she stayed put. The woman's hair blew behind her, as if a fierce gale of wind was flowing past her, and she stared at Thor stoically.

"I can restore him," came her light, lilting voice, flawless skin bright in the dim lighting, and Thor blinked at her, shaking his head in confusion.

"Who…who are you?" She tilted her head, her expression unchanging, and Natasha got the faint impression that she was annoyed by his question.

"My identity is of no importance when I supply you with such an offer." She blinked, and it looked as if she were gazing at Loki, eyelashes glinting silver.

"Now, do you accept it?"

He followed her gaze and stared at his brother grievingly, swallowing thickly.

"What can you do?" Thor asked quickly, breathless. She moved closer, her face devoid of all emotion.

"I can give him back that which you have stolen: his life."

At Thor's brightly hopeful change of expression, she held up a hand.

"_But_ it will come at a price, as all things do." He stood eagerly, excitement making his eyes seem as bright as the clearest ocean.

"What is it? Tell me. I'll give anything, pay any price-so long as Loki lives." The woman nodded in assent, making a sweeping gesture with her arm toward Loki's body.

"The price is his essence, what makes him something _other_. He will wake as a mortal." Thor, reluctantly, began to nod, but she stopped him for the second time, her eyes too bright for him to stare into.

"You will become mortal as well, Odinson. Such a powerful act requires a powerful price." Jane gasped, but quickly stifled it to avoid the woman's eerily penetrating gaze, and Natasha stiffened beside her, genuinely surprised as Thor nodded, this time without hesitation.

"I accept the price. Now, bring my brother back," he said harshly, and she leaned forward to touch one hand to Thor's forehead, bringing her other to press against the cold skin of Loki's cheek. She seemed to glow even brighter for the smallest moment, a slight, hazy halo forming around her, and the light quickly retreated back into her body in the next instant as she pulled her hands back.

Thor swayed dizzily, but blinked away his muddled thoughts to stare up at her gratefully, prepared to say his thanks, but she was already gone, and the room was made dark without her presence, the phantom shadow of her light lingering behind their eyelids.

Beside Thor, Loki began to stir lazily, and his eyelids fluttered weakly as he started to regain consciousness, the blood on his skin already dried and the wound completely healed. Looking down, Thor smiled with relief and laughed, waiting for Loki to wake, but a slight frown lingered on his face.

"Forgive me," he murmured softly as Loki's fingers twitched, a certain unnamable tension lurking in the air, exactly like the suspended, frightened silence just before a bomb decimates an entire city.

**Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)**

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	2. Chapter 2

"So, are we not going to talk about what just happened or…?"

Loki's thoughts were muddled and blurred, images and memories mingling and mixing too much to distinguish between them, sounds piercing his ears like whining static. He felt all too warm, his skin flushed with heat as he moved against what felt like bed sheets, the chill that had for so long overtaken him suddenly vanished from his veins, and he struggled to open his eyes, tickling rays of sunshine bearing down on his face.

He could recognize the feel of it, would always know its warmth, but something was off. He felt sluggish, not at all like himself, and finally managed to crack one eye open, flinching in pain as bright light assaulted him.

A voice that sounded distinctly similar to Thor's echoed through his head, but his ears began to ring fiercely, and his vision swam dizzyingly as any progress he'd made to sit up were lost and he fell back against the pillows beneath him, limbs aching. Body-shaped forms were moving in front of him, and something that looked like an arm was stretched out in his direction, but all of the colors were mashed together and his head hurt whenever he tried to concentrate on them, pulse pounding so rapidly that he could hear the flush of blood in his ears.

Moaning, he weakly threw his arm over his face to cut out the light, and instantly regretted doing so after the pain in his shoulder finally receded enough for him to gain back his breath. An unbearably hot palm was laid on his other hand and the contact lit his skin with heat as he wrenched his fingers away, panting and stifling his reaction to the pain that followed the movement, and something gently pulled the arm slung over his face to set it beside him, taking care not to hurt him, and he reluctantly opened his eyes all the way, squinting as he tried to get used to the light glaring at him from the window.

A rush of sounds fell upon his ears and he flinched, trying to adjust to the fresh noises darting in and out of his hearing range, pitches waning irritatingly.

"Close the curtains," said Jane's familiar voice, and in the next moment a great weight fell upon the bed, making the mattress dip, and Loki recognized it enough to know that Thor sat beside him, to his left, as still and silent as a statue, and the light before him vanished, the whoosh of the curtains the only sound in the room. Suddenly, Loki could see, and the soft skin against his knuckles vanished as Thor's familiar touch replaced it.

"He's burning up," Jane murmured, and he dared to marvel at the concern sneaking into her voice, wondering what exactly had happened to make the accusatory mortal so soft-hearted.

"I'm not surprised. He acted like the light was killing him, so his senses are probably hyperactive, on overload." The Black Widow's voice surprised him, and he blinked to search for her, eyes darting from place to place until he spotted her behind Jane, standing just beside Stark and the Captain.

Loki reacted, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and the mounting ache in his back, and scooted away from them, scrambling to a sitting position and shoving back the sheets to put a barrier between himself and the team, wary of their presence. He searched for the aid of his magic, ready to go down fighting, but the familiar pulse of energy was lacking, and he shook with the realization, the empty space that once was occupied, shocked to the core.

It was as if a piece of him was missing, like someone had stolen that crucial part within him that everything revolved around, a vital puzzle piece. Gasping, he flattened his palms against the bed to support his weight as he felt weak enough to collapse, and spared a glance up at Thor, who sat forlornly on the edge of the bed, frowning apologetically. Behind him, Loki figured he was in some sort of bedroom, and saw on a nearby table a framed picture of Tony's beloved, her strawberry hair frozen in the wind as she smiled at the camera. He blinked, gaze sliding to the humans beside him, and saw Jane sitting opposite Thor.

Stark looked annoyed, his dark eyes bright, and Natasha looked just about ready to flee, no doubt on the tips of her toes with anticipation. The Captain, Loki was surprised to see, seemed worn, dark circles under his eyes and irritated lines on his skin, his blonde hair disheveled.

"Loki." Thor's voice was hoarse, and Loki's head snapped in his direction wearily, a sudden exhaustion slipping into his arms, like he couldn't support his weight, sweat beading down his forehead, his heart slamming against his chest bone. Loki swallowed past the lump in his throat and stared at his brother, his limbs shaking.

"What…._where is my magic_?" Loki asked weakly, his voice sounding smaller than he'd ever heard it, and Thor's expression crumbled as he looked to his hands, at a loss for words. The bruises and cuts on his face were still sore, and they stood out on his tanned skin, his cheeks ruddy, and Loki stared imploringly, the utmost terror glinting in his eyes, and the look reminded Thor of when they were younger, when Loki was innocent and naïve and completely free of the burdens weighing him down now, eyes bloodshot and face gaunt, cheekbones more defined and jutting. The look scared him, and he thought for a moment that he could lie, but Loki was the master of hiding the truth and he'd no doubt catch the falsity, and Thor sighed heavily, dreading how he'd take the news.

"You died," he murmured softly, and Loki closed his mouth, nodding, eyes narrowed as if focused on something in the distance.

"I was…stabbed," Loki started slowly, the pieces clicking together in his mind as he tried to remember.

"_You_ stabbed me. I-I don't remember…what else…"

Jane scooted ever so slightly away when she saw Thor prepare himself, taking a deep breath, and she decided that standing with the rest of the people in the room would protect her most from Loki's anger, and Thor sighed shakily, regret painting his features dark. Loki gazed at him warily, shaking.

"I didn't know, Loki. I didn't think it was really you, and I knew that I had to find a way to save you, no matter what it took. But a woman came before we could make any plans." He laughed humorlessly, the glow of memory in his eyes.

"It was a miracle, really, that someone could bring you back to life so easily, with just the touch of her fingers."

Loki stiffened, shaking his head in confusion.

"And you didn't think that it was at all suspicious that she just appeared to you, offering to conveniently give me life again, free of charge?"

He slumped atop the covers, just managing to roll his eyes at Thor's apparent lapse of judgment. Thor shook his head ever so slightly, swallowing, his mouth so suddenly dry, like he hadn't drunk a single drop of water in decades.

"It wasn't free. The price was my immortality," he murmured, rushed, and Loki blinked at him, lips parting silently.

"You…what?" "She asked for what made me _other_." He sighed, starting to smile humbly.

"I'm mortal now." Loki drew in a breath, staring into the man's eyes, his features, once so cold and unforgiving and hateful, softening just the slightest, his throat bobbing.

"You did that…for me?" Nodding, Thor laughed, blue eyes lively with the light shining inside them.

"Of course. You're my brother, Loki."

For the tiniest moment, Loki felt the corners of his lips begin to turn up, the oddest sensation blooming and spreading like wildfire through his chest, and he allowed himself a single moment to let the world slip away, the memories falling at his feet, the confines around him as thin as air, but there was something dark, shadowed, in Thor's overly soft gaze, and all of that went away instantly, reality settling back down around him. It was a secret, or so it looked, lurking and coiled tight in Thor's eyes, hidden and waiting and deadly, and he swallowed with apprehension, clenching his jaws together to steel himself.

"_But?_" Loki gritted out venomously, his muscles tensed, and Thor flinched at the word, as if it could be a tangible, harmful thing. He started to look to his hands, but decided on staring Loki in the eyes, heart pounding.

"There was another price. She took what made _you _other." Stonily, Loki stared back at him, blinking impassively, and confusion muddled his gaze, his limbs leaden and weak as he struggled to hold himself up, his pulse quickening dangerously, and Thor swallowed.

"You're….mortal, Loki."

There was a certain silence hanging in the air, a thick, warm tension that could be felt by all who searched for it, and, collectively, the team took a step back, eyes wide with anticipation. Loki's limbs lit with a fire he'd only ever known in passing, an inextinguishable flame igniting within him and setting his body on high alert, as close as his mortal form would ever get to superhuman, and suddenly, all of that weight and light and pain was merely a nuisance, the rush of blood in his veins burning him up from the inside as his weakness and exhaustion wilted beneath the heat's unforgiving glare, and Loki was the warmest he'd ever been in all his long life, but his voice was as icy as the chill of death.

"You…took my magic?" Thor jumped at the chance to defend his actions, struggling to make a quick plea for forgiveness, and he frowned at the man's emotionless gaze.

"Not me, the woman. She brought you back, and the price-"

Within the next breath, Loki was gone, leaping from his place on the bed to wrap his slender hands around Thor's neck, tackling him and shoving him off the edge of the bed to land roughly on the floor, his palms pressed unrelentingly against Thor's throat as his long hair fell in front of his face, his green eyes lit with rage.

"You _took _my _MAGIC_?!" He hooked his fingers behind the top of Thor's spine and lifted his head to slam it back against the hardwood floor, all but growling as he tried to choke the blonde, and the Captain started forward with concern, but Natasha put a hand out to stop him.

"They're mortal now. The worst they could do is knock each other out. Let them handle it; it's they're fight."

Reluctantly, he assented, and Tony smiled amusedly before taking a seat in a nearby chair as Jane brought a hand to her mouth when Thor kicked Loki off of him. The trickster went sailing across the room, his back making painful contact against the door, and Steve sent the spy a sideways glare when he landed.

"The worst they can do, huh?"

She shrugged and took a seat by Tony as Loki pushed himself up, cracking his back and neck, leveling his stance before he went rushing at Thor. Thor sidestepped, but Loki anticipated the move and swung his arm out in Thor's new direction, his fist slamming into the man's face, and Thor wiped blood from his lip angrily.

"This is not my fault, Loki!" Thor yelled, and Loki ignored him to kick at his shin, making him drop to the floor, and from his position Thor reached up and grabbed Loki's collar, yanking him down to the ground by the neck. Loki made a protesting noise and bit Thor's hand, and Jane flinched as she heard the sound of it, turning to glare as Tony laughed in surprise.

"We have a biter!"

Thor elbowed Loki in the chest and the impact sent him collapsing against the side of the bed and he shouted angrily as he jumped, wrapping his arms around Thor's wide shoulders and using his own momentum as he swung around and brought him to the floor. Thor took a moment to recover from the immediate loss of breath he felt, and the weakness reminded him of his mortal days directly after banishment so many months ago, that same experience coming back to him. Loki returned to his attempts at choking Thor, and the blonde threw up a hand to smash against his face, shoving him away, but Loki shoved back, futilely trying to choke Thor while suffocating himself, and he finally gave up, opting to stand and drag Thor up by the arm, aiming to punch him.

"Do you know what you've done?!" Loki screamed, eyes wild and face red as he swung his fist at Thor's face. Thor caught the punch, but Loki kneed him in the groin and elbowed his shoulder when he doubled over, finally falling back to the floor in pain. Loki's eyes darted around briefly before he stalked over to a coffee table, roughly picking up the vase sitting atop its mahogany surface, gleaming in the light hanging overhead.

"Hey, don't break that," Tony murmured, brow furrowed.

Glaring at Stark, Loki looked insane, pupils so dilated that they shrouded almost his entire iris, hair curled into his face, his flushed skin looking sickeningly warm. At the stare, Tony threw up his hands and sunk quietly back into his chair, eyes wide. The trickster's hands shook as he carried the vase over to where Thor was splayed upon the floor, wincing.

"You've taken my identity, my _everything_," Loki hissed, and he stopped beside Thor's head to glare menacingly down at him, raising the vase above him in preparation to smash it on his brother's face. Thor only had enough time to cover his face before Loki-

-didn't throw the vase.

A warm hand, soft palm at least a bit familiar, rested upon the hot leather of his armor, just at his wrist, and Thor gaped at Jane, standing just behind Loki with the calmest expression she could muster, her brown eyes glistening with fear. Loki stilled, slowly turning to stare at her with his shaking arms and panting breaths, eyes large and boring into hers. Her lips shook when she closed them to swallow nervously, her pulse rapid.

"He didn't do anything. Don't hurt him, _please,_" she whispered, and Loki narrowed his eyes, lowering his arm and nodding almost imperceptibly, as she forced a smile, releasing her hold on his wrist and turning to join the others, eager to be rid of the tense sensations surrounding the former god.

Thor relaxed, smiling with relief, and Loki took a breath.

He slammed the vase as hard as he could against Thor's face, using all of his strength and energy and fire still left within him, his voice giving out as he screamed in anguish, yearning so much for the familiar pulse of magic at his fingertips, the void now lying unfilled within his chest, the empty space where the bright memory of magic once lived.

He didn't check to see if Thor was alright, and didn't care about Jane's scream or her small body flitting past him to reach his brother, or anyone else in the room.

He just looked up, staring at the curtains and the muted sunlight longing to shine past them, utterly drained, and the fire within him was snuffed out by the darkness that overcame his vision, and Loki, after feeling such strong weakness in his legs, heard the sharp sound of his body falling against the floor right before all of the pain caught up to him, throwing him into oblivion.

**Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

In a dark moment, he could recall lost snippets of childhood, resurfaced after so long, and he could squash them down and suppress them further, ignore them and go about his adopted life of mayhem.

This is what Loki usually did.

He managed to do it when Odin denied him, hanging over the precipice of certain death, the icy wind made by the plummeting Bifrost chilling the tears in his eyes. He did it when Thor gave him a way out of the situation in Manhattan, when he offered hope with such an eager smile, so ready to believe that one so fallen could be redeemed. He even pulled it off when Frigga gazed at him with that shredded gleam of what once was displayed so clearly in her eyes, the laugh lines around her mouth crinkled when she smiled at him, a tear strolling down her cheek at the burn of his words, spilt like acid on his tongue.

Loki could do it at the worst of times, or at the moments he needed to the most, and it barely ever fazed him.

Until Thor was involved, that is. The god had a way with things, had a personal relationship with the fine line between naivety and stupidity, dancing on its boundary at all times of his life. Thor was his one and only weakness, able to bring him low and make him humble, able to life him up and give him pride.

He was Loki's downfall, for certain, but he was his strength. There could never be Thor without the ever-lurking presence of Loki, and Loki could not survive without Thor. It was the simple way of things, one that no one but the two brothers had ever completely understood, and the growing rift dividing them only made the matter worse.

Loki couldn't even think of his brother without that revoltingly familiar sting of jealousy stabbing at his heart, or the annoying burn of tears in his eyes at the time gone by, and yet he longed for those lost pieces of his youth, when they were inseparable, when nothing could ever dream of coming between their friendship. But that was an entire lifetime ago, far too many years to count, and Thor had changed.

He'd grown, matured, his decisions less rash and his intent less cruel. Loki could think back and let his old perspective sink in, let the ignorant Loki take over and be proud of Thor for his metamorphosis, and that was all that would ever be accomplished.

The old Loki would never last long, and he'd disappear just as quickly as he surfaced, fading into the neglected images in Loki's mind, the moments better left alone. And then the true Loki was back, the changed, realized Loki, and his thoughts spiraled out of control as, perhaps, the faint sound of Thor's voice made it through the conflicted thoughts and background noise, almost pulling him from his sleep, but the concern dripping from his words made the trickster recoil, too afraid to wake and face his once-brother, too afraid to open his eyes and look in the mirror and find the old Loki gazing imploringly back at him, begging to be released, begging to make amends, begging and hoping and longing, and Loki lost himself again.

...

"What do you expect me to do, throw him on the street, leave him to his own devices?" Thor asked rhetorically, aiming for the sympathy card, and Tony slammed his scotch glass on the counter, brow furrowed.

"Yes!"

The sound of the glass shattering threw him into a slew of cuss words, and he scrambled for a towel, his fingers shaking, while Thor stood beside Jane, watching his comrade with sad eyes. In the living room, it looked as if a literal divide could be pinpointed, Steve and Natasha choosing to stand by the bar as Tony cleaned up the broken glass and amber liquid spilled onto the counter's smooth surface and Jane clinging to Thor's arm, her brown eyes bright with worry as she nonchalantly inspected Thor's bitten hand, the wound puffy and irritated and dark with dried blood. Thor closed his mouth in surprise, speechless.

"We should contact Fury, call in S.H.I.E.L.D. They'll take care of Loki," Natasha suggested smoothly, her fiery hair dimmed in the light, and Thor stepped forward angrily, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"To torture him! To treat him-"

"Like a prisoner?!" Natasha interjected, her own cool brand of anger sneaking into her voice as she stepped over to meet Thor's fuming gaze, and he sobered quickly, saddened by her sudden hostility.

"Loki will be treated like he should have been a year ago?! Is that what you mean, Thor? He'll be treated like the criminal, the _murderer_, he is, and that's how it should have always been." She turned away, dismissing the conversation, and sighed as Steve watched her tense movements, frowning.

"You can't protect him forever; he's not the same person you think you know. He tried to kill you-_multiple_ times," the Captain murmured quietly, and flinched inwardly at Thor's attentive, dejected gaze, the look of a dying man captured in his bright eyes. The fresh cuts on his face were bright red against his skin, and Tony could still hear the sound of the porcelain breaking against the man's head, echoed in his thoughts after an hour of its silence. His hand needed to be bandaged, that much was apparent, and a few Band-Aids couldn't hurt, but he was stubborn, and had rejected both ideas without hesitation, shoulders slumped with the burdens of a future king of Asgard. Thor shook his head slowly, blinking away the burn in his eyes.

"I know him well, Captain. Loki has changed beyond my wildest imaginings, but he's not entirely _beyond_ my reach, and I know my brother is in there, somewhere." Jane clutched at his uninjured hand reassuringly, her soothing touch immediately consoling to the former god.

"He was different, not long ago. When our mother died, he avenged her. I could see past his mask, to the grief he was going through. He wouldn't have felt saddened by her passing unless he cared, and if he cared, then he's in there. He just has to be given a chance," he explained slowly, remembering how unrelentingly hopeless he'd been before and after Frigga's murder, how he'd refused to believe Loki could be saved. He was still reeling from the news of Odin's demise, and he prayed that it was a lie, knowing that even as he spoke the words of Loki's potential redemption, that, too, was an unachievable dream.

Loki was past reason, past logic, past everything, but Thor had to offer forgiveness or nothing would ever be accomplished, and so he swallowed his sorrow and pretended like he didn't care about his brother's recent actions, choosing to deal with the lesser evil and start from there. Steve leaned against the bar and Tony, looking up from his vigorous scrubbing, frowned.

"So you want us to, what? Harbor a killer? And not to mention," he murmured sarcastically, gesturing to Thor's swollen hand, "a biter."

Thor sighed, looking down at Loki's teeth marks, deeply rooted in his skin at the back of his hand.

"Just…let me talk with him."

"We should call Barton and see if Banner can get over here. It seems like he can handle Loki pretty well," Steve suggested, ignoring Thor, and the spy beside him sat down on a bar stool, shaking her head with a distracted, absent look in her eyes.

"I can handle him!" Thor shouted indignantly, and Tony laughed mirthlessly.

"Yeah, you sure looked like you were handling him when he kicked your ass."

Thor took a breath to say something, but came up empty, sighing in defeat, nursing the wound on his hand as Jane released her hold on him to get bandages, despite his previous protests. Natasha watched her go and shook her head, gazing up at Steve.

"Clint is off on a mission; it'd be dangerous to interrupt him now. And Banner…doesn't exactly like Loki. Something traumatic as Loki's reappearance could still trigger an episode, no matter how in control he claims to be."

Thor paced in the wake of Jane's absence, restless, and he ran a hand through his hair anxiously, shrugging as thought after thought came to him, seemingly in an argument with himself. After a few minutes of this, Jane came back in with ointments and sprays and bandages alike, her arms full as she spread it all out on the coffee table, and Tony made a point to not think about the blood stains on the sofa, or the dent in the door, or the porcelain pieces scattered on the hardwood in the bedroom. He sighed, dreading the moment Pepper returned from her grocery trip, and Steve gave him a near-telepathic, sympathetic look, as if he could see into Tony's mind. Thor brushed Jane's touch away when she tried to wrap gauze around his hand, and she gave him a silent, aggravated look before reattempting it. He swatted her fingers away a second time and sighed stressfully.

"I just-I just need to calm him down, make him see reason."

He stood quickly, ignoring Jane's orders that he come back so she could help him, and she was left standing in the middle of the living room with the saddest look in her eyes, and Steve thought for a moment to ask if there was trouble in paradise, but the door opened creakily and every head turned to see Pepper, walking in with bags full of food cradled in her arms. She closed the door and looked up, but stopped dead when she saw everyone sitting around, medical supplies strewn on the table. Turning, she gazed at Tony, and the bright red blotch on the white sofa drew her wide-eyed glance away from him.

At the sight, she dropped the bags, and Stark had the sinking suspicion that the fallen groceries were the least of his worries.

**Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

Thor adjusted the pillow flattened beneath Loki's head, attempting to fluff it without waking him, and sunk back into his chair, satisfied that Loki was comfortable-or as comfortable as one could be, given the circumstance. The hypnotic ticking of the clock hands was the only sound, that and the soft sound of Loki's rattling breaths, his body still in disrepair from the fight and his newfound weakness.

Guilt sunk its teeth into Thor's conscious at the memory of his quarrel with Loki, at how he'd hurt him, and his cheeks colored with shame. He hung his head in his hands, screwing his eyes shut to block out the images, and his fingers shook as Loki, beyond him, stirred under the sheets just the slightest, his breaths becoming less even as he woke slowly from his heavy slumber.

...

"So you're telling me that _right now_, Loki's knocked out, mortal, and sleeping it off in your bed, all with some weird alien woman floating around somewhere with Thor and Loki's powers?" Pepper asked slowly, incredulously, each word specifically and extremely enunciated, and Tony shrugged, sighing.

"….Yeah, that just about sums it up."

Steve snorted, a glass of some unknown alcohol clutched in his hand, and Tony swiveled on his bar stool to gaze at his comrade, smirking drunkenly, a glass held in his own grip, and Jane looked up from a book she was clutching, one eyebrow raised.

"I thought alcohol couldn't affect you," Tony murmured curiously, and Steve looked down at his drink and shrugged.

"It can't. But I figured that it was worth a shot."

He gently set the beverage down, wary of a repeat of Tony's previous glass mishap, and Stark, remembering the incident and the resulting scratch on the counter, winced as he thought of listing yet another misfortune to Pepper. Natasha, who seemed entirely uninterested in the conversation, stood by the window, staring out at the skyscrapers and cloudy backdrop, her grey eyes catching the light and looking almost transparent, red hair looking like it was lit with flame.

The phantom vibrations of her phone in her pocket tempted her to check the screen, a secret part of her wishing that Clint would send her a message, a hint that he was at least alive. His recent mission required the utmost secrecy, even when around her, and she regretted that he had to go alone, had to face unknown dangers without his right-hand woman. And to think that he could be out there, dead, unconscious, or tortured, somewhere on his own without her aid to sustain him-it was nearly unbearable, and she flattened a palm against her jeans pocket absently, wishing she would feel, suddenly, the familiar vibration, but it never came, and Natasha had to pretend like she didn't care, or they would all see through her eyes and straight to her weakness.

She sighed inwardly and gazed at the towering buildings like it was the most interesting thing in the world, and Steve, sitting far enough away to be unable to see the exact glint in her eyes, pretended like he wasn't staring at her the whole time.

...

Hesitantly, Loki was drawn from sleep, and he blearily opened his eyes to see Thor sitting, hunched over, before him, shoulders trembling, his burly hands shoved against his reddened face as the light peeking out from the sides of the curtains cast a golden glow on the blonde strands loosened from the various braids and ties in his hair. He looked weak, as if his very core had been depleted, as if all of his cherished loves and possessions and people had been ripped from his grip, like he'd been brought low off of his high horse.

Slowly, Loki sat up tenderly, aware of the damage to his mortal body but still willing to catch Thor by surprise and attack him, but he couldn't help but hiss in pain, inadvertently alerting Thor of his wakefulness, and the blonde looked up, startled, blue eyes red with tears and wide with something Loki hadn't himself witnessed in a long time.

It was the memory of affection, and it made Loki falter. It was a _weakness_, and a damned strong one at that, and Loki cursed himself.

"Loki," Thor whispered almost soundlessly, his face so worn and tired and forlorn, eyes so familiar and pained, and Loki reclined against the headboard, ignoring the flare of pain in his back at the contact, and he let his shoulders slump, let his façade of strength dissipate, and Thor stayed where he was, longing and hoping for a conversation that could be considered civil.

"Get on with it, then," Loki suggested impatiently, swallowing thickly, and Thor blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, nodding eagerly.

"I am so…_so sorry_. Loki, you must believe me. I only wanted to bring you back, to fix what I had done. I wasn't thinking clearly. I…just…wasn't thinking."

Loki watched as he struggled for words, his eyes tearing up again, and Loki looked down at his hands-his weak, mortal hands-and sighed, remembering Frigga's unending mercy, and he thought that he could, for once, make his mother proud. He looked back to his sniffling brother, and Thor met his eyes with the utmost reluctance, fearful of another fight, but Loki just shook his head tiredly.

"You don't know…what you've done, Thor. My magic-it was everything, and now it's gone, just like it was never there at all. I…can't forgiv-"

Something stopped him, a murmuring in his head, a reminder of all the things Thor had forgiven him of, of all the things that had been overlooked for the sake of brotherhood, of all the times Thor had, indeed, eagerly forgotten and moved on.

And Loki, no matter how callous he'd trained himself to be or how uncaring he made himself seem, simply could not speak those words, could not deny Thor what he had given Loki time and time again, simply could not ignore the echo, so faint and fading in his memories, of Frigga's gentle, good-hearted advice.

_You can never scold Thor, for he will resent you and never learn. But if you forgive him, he'll never hate you a day in his life. _

Loki, more and more these days, was finding a lot of truth in the time-worn counsel, and, unbearably hot, he tugged on the collar of his stiff armor, noticing the dried blood spattered across it with distaste. His lips shook when he tried to speak, and his fingers trembled in their place atop the soft covers, and he'd never felt, both emotionally and physically, so immensely weak, so ridiculously vulnerable. When he spoke, he looked to his lap, and couldn't meet his brother's eyes.

"I'm sorry. For all that I've done, both here and anywhere else, to you and the family and the mortals. I know it was wrong, but there are some things you will never know, my motive being one of them."

He found the nerve to look upward, at Thor's teary eyes.

"And don't pretend to understand me; it won't get you anywhere. I could wake up one morning and kill the lot of you and you'd never see it coming, so don't presume me predictable, and don't think you can_ handle_ me. Right now, as humans, we both stand on equal ground."

He sighed heavily, longing for the chill, the familiar iciness, that had for so long resided in his body, weary of the heat and the burn and the pain.

"But I want my magic back, and I intend to get it-with or without your help. Now if you want to go-"

Abruptly, there was a loud disturbance in the air, and Thor was wrapping his arms about Loki's shoulders in a tight, happy embrace, his own body struck with slight tremors, and Loki realized that tears were dripping onto his armor, that Thor was crying on his shoulder, that _Thor_, and he was overcome with memories at the contact, _was crying_, that he trusted Loki enough to come near him in such a way and leave himself so intensely, openly and willingly, vulnerable, just as Loki had been moments ago. In all the moments of his life, he'd never felt so powerless, left abandoned and without his only virtue, left completely and utterly alone, and Thor tightened his hold, the feel of his arms reminiscent of the soft press of Frigga's hold against him when he was a child. Quivering, weak, and aching, Loki sighed.

Of their own accord, Loki's arms came around to wrap securely around Thor's back, and his head fell forward, face buried in Thor's tangled hair, eyes falling shut, leaden burdens falling from his shoulders just as a tear streaked down his cheek.

"I'm _sorry_," he breathed quietly, and Thor cupped a palm at the back of Loki's neck (a moment appeared in his mind, a moment before the coronation when the atmosphere was tense with anxiety, released by Loki's playful and mocking banter, his natural way of soothing the most troubling of concerns, his smile so bright and proud and joyous), smoothing down an unruly lock of black hair in the process as he tried to compose himself.

"So am I, Loki. But right now, we need to get our powers back."

He pulled away reluctantly, pretending like he didn't notice the trails of water running down Loki's pale cheeks, the blurred shine of his green eyes illuminated beneath the harsh glare of the bedroom lighting. Loki nodded and sniffed, blinking away tears.

"We need to find the woman, whoever she is. Do you have any idea?" The trickster shook his head, releasing a slow breath, and Thor nodded in acceptance, smiling good-naturedly at his brother, and Loki, studying his expression, smirked mockingly, raising a brow.

"I guess we'll have to hunt her down," he said, excited for adventure, and Thor laughed happily, clapping Loki on the shoulder.

"I have to go talk to everyone and see what they say."

And he was gone, backing out of the door and smiling like he'd just been given the greatest gift, and Loki watched him go with a darkening gloom falling over his features, his smile vanishing as soon as Thor's crimson cape was out of eyesight. His eyes were shadowed, and that same weakness was quick to return, and he curled up on his side and buried himself underneath the covers, longing to escape the murmurs in his head.

...

"How in the darkest pits of hell are we supposed to track this person down?"

Tony asked seriously, arms crossed as he stood behind Pepper, who sat with her hands folded in her lap, carefully placed on the sofa cushion that didn't have Loki's blood on it, eyes flitting to the stain every once and a while with revulsion shining in her judgmental stare. Natasha and Jane gave each other questioning looks, and turned from the other awkwardly when they both realized neither person had an answer. Steve sat, deep in thought, hands buried in his jacket pockets, his blue eyes trained on Thor as the man tried to explain.

"Loki knows things. If he can't figure it out, then we can help him. Surely, with all of us combined, we can find her and relinquish our abilities."

Steve put up a finger, as if from a sudden realization, and pointed at Thor, unsure.

"Wouldn't that just kill Loki? I mean, if his life is based on the deal that he become human, wouldn't making him a god again just negate the deal?"

Thor, his mouth open to give a retort, faltered, and he sighed, eyes wide as he realized the truth in the Captain's words. He shook his head, and Tony thought he saw a trace of denial in his suddenly panicked stare.

"But…there has to be a way. There _has_ to-"

"It's alright, Thor," came a soft voice from behind them, and they all turned to see Loki, leaning heavily on the bedroom doorframe, his feet bared against the plush carpet of the living room where it connected with the hardwood of Tony and Pepper's room. His armor was gone, the ebony leather and green fabric replaced by a forest-hued cotton undershirt and black pants. There was still blood on his clothes, and it stained the fabric darkly, but Thor didn't seem to notice. He smiled, but there was worry in his eyes.

"Are you sure you feel well enough to-"

Loki stopped him with a hand in the air, nodding, and he pushed himself off of the frame, ignoring the harsh glares of the team around him, going over to stand by Thor's side.

"I've been thinking," he started slowly, and Tony could hear, for the first time, a certain exhaustion in Loki's voice. He could catch the glint of sorrow in his eyes, the beginnings of panic, the sluggish weariness that had settled. He was used to the arrogant, murderous, insane Loki-not this one, and it surprised him, but he remained impassive, too wary of displaying emotion that Loki could use against him later. It seemed that the man's presence unnerved both Pepper and Steve, and Natasha seemed captured by the change Tony noticed, eyes trailing the way Loki put his hands behind his back, the way he toyed with the unraveling strands at the hem of his shirt, the way he shied away from Thor's gaze. It was like he was a different person, and Natasha refused to be fooled, so she searched deeper for the Loki she knew to be there, somewhere, narrowing her gaze.

"We should hold off on finding the woman. We need information, and currently have no way of getting it. The longer we wait around, the more the opportunity to research her will present itself."

He shrugged, and Thor, like a lost puppy that had just found its master, nodded in complete agreement, like there couldn't possibly be a better idea, and Jane frowned, standing.

"Shouldn't we think of other options?" Loki turned to her, and she expected to meet his rage, or his contempt, or anything that made her feel like the merest mortal in a crowd of Asgardians, but his eyes were empty, and she stepped back, terrified.

An emotional Loki, even if angry and screaming and crying, was better than an emotionless Loki, and she swallowed nervously. Loki's gaze slid lazily over her and to where Natasha was sitting, strewn out like a cat, his once calculating stare now deriving from pure curiosity, and the spy stared stoically back, reminded of her last interaction with him. Steve, aware of the entire ordeal, stood and moved in front of Loki's attentive eyes, putting a blockade between the trickster and Natasha, and Loki smiled. It wasn't a cruel gesture, but an observational one, and his eyes sparkled with amusement as he bowed his head the slightest, looking away.

Steve tried not to act flustered.

"What are we going to do, keep him here? We're going to sleep in the same area as a murderer?"

Tony, squeezing his hold on Pepper's shoulder reassuringly, nodded in vigorous agreement, and Thor looked at them all, frowning, and no one took notice of Jane's question, so she sat down slowly, angered.

"Yes. I'll look after him, and if he starts trouble, I'll take care of it. But he won't, will you, Loki?"

Turning, Thor beckoned his brother, and Loki sidled closer, shaking his head.

"I won't harm you. My condition…wouldn't benefit from it."

And no matter how many times they argued, or how many times Tony raised his voice or banged his fist against the table, or how many times Steve eyed Loki evilly when he caught the man staring at Natasha, or how many times Jane had to pretend like the whole ordeal wasn't just plain crazy, Thor would agree to nothing but the conditions that Loki stay in the Tower until his powers were returned, and then he would be right back in Asgard's dungeons on the charge of murder.

Thor didn't mention the ever-increasing fear he had that he wouldn't be able to save Loki from the fate of death that surely awaited him in the golden halls of Asgard, and Loki didn't mention the sinking premonition he had that something awful was going to happen.

**Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

"Here's one of Barton's outfits; you can wear that until we find you some regular clothes that aren't covered in blood," Natasha muttered, dropping a pile of clothes onto Tony's-but it seemed that Loki had quite literally moved into the room-bed, frowning with distaste at just being in the same area as the former god, and Loki raised an eyebrow.

"You have Barton's clothes?"

It was rhetorical, and the red head looked up to give him a withering glare, not caring to give him an answer, and she sighed heavily, shaking her head, and leaned down close to where Loki sat, legs crisscrossed atop the sheets, her face inches from his.

"I know you're still a bastard, no matter what Thor thinks; we all know it. If you so much as lay a finger on any of my team, I can promise that you'll pay for it." She backed away, crossing her arms, her jacket pulled taut about her shoulders, and glared threateningly at him.

"Are we clear?"

Knowing he could kill her at that very moment, Loki smirked, glancing down at the outfit before him, and he imagined wrapping his fingers around her throat, watching as the life left her eyes, feeling her pulse flutter helplessly beneath his deadly touch. The thought made him laugh humorlessly, and when he at last looked back up, he could see the glint of panic in her eyes, the cold calculations already running through her mind, the thought out process of how she could both avoid the situation and gain the upper hand in a fight with Loki. His grin widened as he leaned forward menacingly.

"I can assure you, my only aim is to gain back my magic. The only person I'll be laying a finger on, Agent Romanov, is this mystery woman."

Unconvinced, the spy seemed eager to leave, and he watched her retreat, imagining the gasp for breath she'd make as she suffocated. _Mortals_, he thought disgustingly, and he reluctantly scooped up the clothes.

...

Steve noticed that Natasha looked anxious, that she paced about the room and flattened her hand against her pocket, that she went over to pull one of her many guns from a cabinet and set it on the coffee table like she'd need it. He watched her for a long time, blue eyes stalking her every movement, and he stood, careful to avoid intruding on Tony and Pepper's private conversation in the kitchen, which connected to the living room, where Thor was murmuring lowly to Jane, and by the sound of their voices, an argument seemed inevitable. Across from them, the spy stood by the window, finally still after so much movement, and the Captain crept over, smiling charmingly.

She looked like she needed a distraction.

"So, why _did_ you have Barton's clothes?"

She turned, looking for a moment at least a little surprised, and he let himself feel triumphant for catching the Black Widow unaware.

"You heard?" Natasha asked quietly, and Steve, thinking of the conversation he'd caught, nodded.

"I hope you don't mind me eavesdropping. I just heard you- couldn't really _not _hear you, actually." She blinked at him, gazing back at the view from the penthouse level, and tilted her head.

"I'd be embarrassed that you heard me threatening him, but I know you'd do the same. He's too much of a risk to not take seriously."

In total agreement, Steve turned around to sneak a glance at Thor. Bright, hopeful Thor. He was so sure that Loki had changed.

How often had he been just as sure? How often had that belief proved costly?

Steve only knew what he'd seen recently, and he could just imagine how Loki had been before Manhattan. The deception seemed bone-deep inside him, something unable to be altered, something unnaturally _natural. _He'd never learn, and Steve only hoped that whatever happened next would open his eyes before his next mistake ended up costing him his life.

Beside him, Natasha shifted on the balls of her feet, smirking.

"Barton stays at my place sometimes. He usually leaves a spare set of clothes in case he needs them. Since he's away, I figured he wouldn't be needing them anytime soon."

She turned and walked across the living room, making sure to grab her gun, past the kitchen, and through a connected hallway, disappearing out of sight to a guest room, seeking solitude, and Steve was left wondering, blushing and immensely curious, why Barton ever stayed at her place to begin with.

...

"Hey, Pep," Tony said seriously, gently grasping at Pepper's elbow as she turned to leave after an ill-timed joke he'd made, and she swiveled back around, frowning, her eyes wide and scared from Loki's lasting presence.

"It'll be ok. We'll go in a guest room, since I doubt he's going to give up my awesome bed, and you'll be far away from him. He won't hurt you; I won't let him." Pepper leaned into his touch, taking rattling, nervous breaths, and she looked over at him, their heights made even by the heels still on her feet.

"It's _Loki_, Tony. He threw you out _a window_, and you think you can go up against him?" The billionaire rolled his eyes.

"He's mortal, now. He can't do anything that I can't do." Pepper placed her palm against the spot on his chest where his arc reactor once glowed, and she swallowed thickly, shaking her head.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Tony." He pulled her in for a hug, pressing his chin at the top of her shoulder and burying his face in her strawberry hair, breathing in her scent and closing his eyes, basking in her body heat.

"I always do."

...

"It's confusing. One moment, he seems so…_human_, and the next, he's a maniac. You saw how he was when he was pretending to betray you; it was like he really was enjoying himself." Thor, his palms laid flat in Jane's, frowned, running his fingertip over the sensitive skin of her wrist, and she shivered.

"He was acting, Jane. That's what he was supposed to do."

Sitting on couch, Jane could imagine that there was no one else in the room but Thor, his eyes only for her, but she couldn't forget the reality, and she shook her head sadly, uneager to make Thor realize the truth of the situation.

"Sometimes, I feel for him, I really do. I know you love him, and deep down he probably loves you, too, but he's gone. He's _gone,_ Thor. He's not coming back."

She put two fingers under his chin and gently lifted his head, staring at him pointedly.

"Whatever Loki you knew, he's not in that room. It's a danger to everyone to keep him here, a danger to all of the people out there, and the people in here." Jane brushed the back of her hand against his cheek, smiling apologetically, and Thor squeezed her other hand comfortingly.

"I know he's changed."

Sighing, she pulled from his grasp, tired of trying to coax a harsher Thor out of the clearly soft-hearted one, and crossed her arms.

"He killed your father, Thor." Instantly, she regretted saying it, because his flinch of pain made her heart cry out to him, and she exhaled softly, heartbeat rapid.

"He killed him, and you're ready to believe he's changed, after doing something like that?"

"I have faith," Thor murmured, leaning toward her and whispering in that voice of his, his eyes warm, "and perhaps you could use some, as well. Besides, keeping Loki here is the best thing for everyone."

Jane was about to protest, or rebuke his statement with questions, but he stopped her with a hand to her mouth, gentle fingers pressed to her lips, and he smiled. She'd never seen such a glorious, mischievous smile, and her brown eyes widened at the sight.

"If Loki stays here, if he stays mortal, then I stay mortal, and we can be together for all our lives."

Jane had never changed her opinion so quickly as in that moment.

...

Ignoring the team in the other room, Loki had tried to sleep, and when that had failed he'd tried to yet again conjure his magic. The disappointment was heavy, and it weighed him down, and he'd closed his eyes to ward off the light and the reality and the truth.

He'd been alone when he'd fallen asleep, uncomfortably lying down in Barton's jeans and white t-shirt, the door closed.

So, when he at last opened his eyes, Loki was ultimately surprised to see Jane standing in front of the door, her back resting against it, the room itself dark with the shadows seeping through the glass of the windows. His mind went through the process of calculating what time of day it was, and the silence of the house told him that everyone had retired to their rooms for the night, but he doubted that anyone was asleep. He guessed how quickly he could evade Jane, or how fast he could reach her without her screaming for Thor, how fast he could kill her if she tried anything.

But Jane just stood there with her hands limply resting at her sides, watching him, her face cast in shadows. The situation was awkward, even for Loki, and he cautiously sat up and scooted back across the bed, eyeing her warily, but there was no malice in her steady gaze, only curiosity, so he beckoned to her, patting the spot at the edge of the bed.

"Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to sit?"

She seemed surprised by his question, but she came nonetheless, walking across the room to sit carefully upon the covers, her expression blank. Loki drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, the act making him feel more secure. He was brought back to nights as a child, when he would do the same thing to ward off his nightmares, and he'd wake up with his back aching and his legs incredibly stiff, but it was always a graciously dreamless sleep.

"Are you here to threaten me? The pastime has become popular," he whispered in the darkness, and he noticed for the first time that his light was off, guessing that she or Thor one flipped the switch while he was asleep. She shook her head, and life was brought to her features as she grinned, laughing silently.

"You saved my life once; why would I threaten you?" Loki stared, quiet, and she blinked at him, observing his new clothes. "Do you remember that?"

Of course he did. He remembered the very moment that he chose to shove her out of the way. He could recall the distinct fear he'd felt, the near-tangible horror that had gripped him when he'd been sucked up into the air, the dawning realization that he'd just traded his life for hers. But he told her none of this, and she kept looking at him, finally deciding to change the subject.

"There's a part of me that hates you, you and all of the awful things you did," she murmured bitterly, and he could just make out the glistening of her eyes, "Now, whether that part of me is the one that feels connected to every other human out there, I don't know. But the other half of me wants to believe what Thor believes. It wants to have faith in you, to see what he sees."

She looked to her hands, and he watched the movement, watched the nervousness lurking in every one of her actions.

"For the first time in my life, I don't know what to think. I always have an idea, or a plan, or _something_. All I know is that we should make a deal." Loki's eyes rounded at the offer, and he leaned his head into the space between them, staring at her unblinkingly as she looked up and smiled.

"I know it's not the smartest thing I could do, dealing with the God of Mischief, but I figure it's the only way to make sure we both understand something."

He leaned in further, overwhelmed with curiosity.

"And what is that?" Loki breathed.

"You terrify me, and the idea of you hurting anyone I care about terrifies me, and I annoy you, and everyone around here annoys you." He raised a brow, expectant.

"Your point being?" She grinned sheepishly, but he caught the gleam of pride in her eyes, of a slow, odd triumph.

"Don't hurt us, be civil, even be willing to talk to us, and I'll vouch for you. I'll get everyone to come around, to warm up to you." Loki didn't ask her how she'd accomplish it, for it was in her eyes, as plain as day, and he narrowed his own.

"Aren't you tired of being threatened?"

It was true, he indeed was sick of being bombarded with threats. Steve had glared at him, and it was the most menacing glare, when Natasha had left his room, eyeing him through the open doorway. Tony and Pepper had just about done the same, though Pepper had seemed skittish and had quickly averted her gaze. Loki, sighing and still aching from the fight, stuck his hand out, wiggling his fingers mockingly, and Jane steeled herself, taking a deep breath. She took his hand and shook it, preparing to be unnerved by the touch of a killer, the touch that so many others had felt just before death.

The expected reaction didn't come, and instead Jane found herself plunged into the memory of her first contact with Thor, the first time she'd touched his skin, that spark of _something_ deep within her, the pulsing, distant sensation that something would come of such a touch, that something, bad or good, something life-changing, was about to happen.

The same feeling arose within her, but it wasn't coupled with an immediate infatuation, like with Thor, but a soft, faint thought that, for once, there was a kindred spirit before her, and Loki's eyes were as a wide as saucers when he stared at her, his palm against hers. Hurriedly, Jane pulled out of his hold, nodding to seal their deal, and she backed away to quietly open the door and slip out, undetected by any of the Tower's other occupants.

Loki could feel the ghost of her touch, and he looked to his palm, puzzled. He had a memory of his own playing vividly in his mind, and he, too, felt overcome with the oddest sensation. Never in a million years would he be interested in Thor's mortal-at least, not like how Thor was interested in her, Loki thought to himself. But there was a connection he'd never felt before, presented to him on a silver platter, and Loki, for the first time since his earliest memory of playing with Thor as a toddler, thought, for the tiniest moment, that he'd found a friend.

And watching her go, he didn't once think of how she'd look, dying and gasping for air, desperate to escape his choking hold as he smothered the life from her.

**Alright. So, this is shorter than the rest for a reason-I've come to a crossroads of sort and I need everyone's opinion before I dive headlong into the idea I've been having ever since Chapter 1.**

**Obviously, there's not going to be a romance between Jane and Loki, but I have plans for each of his relationships with each character; they're all going to be different, and don't assume that this chapter means Jane and Loki will be best buds from now on, because they definitely won't. ;)**

**But here's my dilemma: Do you think a relationship is unneeded, since there's Pepper/Tony and Jane/Thor already? Or do you want to see a certain relationship involving a certain patriotic good-doer that I have planned? xD Give me your input, please! EDIT: NOT STEVExLOKI! I could never do that with a serious face. xD Two completely different pairings; one with Loki, and one with Steve. **

**And I may or may not be planning one more pairing that I've begun to ship more and more over the past few months...*nudges playfully***

**Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

Morning came to find Loki hunched in his seat atop one of Tony's barstools, staring at the mug of coffee Thor had prepared him sitting untouched upon the counter, dark liquid still and creamy. The steam rose from it in thick, wispy tendrils, curling about his fingers whenever he let his hand hover over the cup. Basking in the odd, quiet comfort the warmth of it gave him, Loki was content with the silence surrounding him and his brother, who sat just across from him with a bored look on his face, shining in his eyes and darkening his features.

The feeling was probably due to the rest of the team's absence, since they'd all agreed to go shopping for Loki's clothes. He'd found it odd, when they'd all shuffled out the door in a collective, rushed way, but being cooped up with someone who had previously tried to kill you could make you do unusual things. The urge to get away had overcome Loki, as well, but he was helpless to act on it, chin resting against his palm as he thought of Jane, sleeping the afternoon away in her room downstairs while Thor looked for all the world like he longed to see her walking through the door.

He'd underestimated the mortal- that was clear to Loki now. She was foolish, that was certain, for approaching him like she did, but that same thing was what made her different, what set her apart from the rest; she was brave, brave in a way Thor had never been, and this intrigued Loki far more than he'd ever admit. In a secret sort of way, he wished she would wake and come into the living room, just as Thor wished now, staring longingly at the doorway like he could make her appear. Loki just wanted to _know. _He wanted to discover what within her had thought it a good idea to bargain with him, what within her had managed to change Thor in a matter of days-from the arrogant boy he'd always been to the humble man he was now.

Thor sighed heavily, destroying the silence instantly, and Loki glared at him, angry and already yearning for the peace Thor had ruined.

"Do you forgive me?" Loki asked harshly, and before the words were even spoken he was surprised by his lack of empathy, the drive, the small voice that had murmured and urged and told him to get back at Thor for taking the silence away. He blinked, shocked, and pretended like Thor's wince didn't hurt him somewhere deep inside.

"For what?" Thor's voice trembled, and Loki had the feeling that he knew exactly what, so he remained stoic, neglecting his coffee as he stared at the blonde, knowing that Thor would never forgive him, and knowing, distantly and in a hesitant, horrified way, that he didn't want forgiveness. He was past that. He shrugged, circling the ring of his cup with his fingertip.

"For killing Odin," he murmured, making sure to watch the way Thor's face changed, the way his eyes shifted away from Loki's face, the way he swallowed nervously, his cheeks reddened with renewed grief, like he'd almost forgotten until Loki's words convinced him that it hadn't all been one awful dream. Thor looked down at his hands, trying to distract himself, and Loki made certain that his face revealed no emotion, years of practice under his belt.

"I cannot forgive you, Loki; you have to understand." He wasn't exactly surprised by the answer, but he was taken aback by how Thor's eyes looked: teary and irritated and brimming with remorse, even sorrow, because he was unable to forgive. Loki blinked, masking his shock, and leveled his stare, impassive.

"And yet you brought me back; you sacrificed…so much," he murmured lowly, almost beneath his breath, and cursed himself for how genuine the statement sounded, how weak his voice seemed, how plainly his emotions snuck past his own carefully structured walls. Thor looked down to the cup and smiled sadly, blue eyes bright and vivid from the water dripping down his cheeks as he thought of Odin and what Loki had done- something he'd desperately tried to bury deep in his memories.

" He faltered, blinking away tears as his lips shook, and swallowed the lump quickly growing in his throat. "For killing Father, but I can devote my time to opening your eyes to the chance you've been given. That is why I became mortal, Loki."

Loki found himself in need of a distraction, anything to keep his mind off both Thor's confession and the empty space inside him where magic once rested, a grim reminder he was aware of every minute of every hour, so he glared down at the mug of coffee, standing stiffly to make his way to the kitchen and pour the steaming liquid down the sink drain, and he could hear Thor's heavy sigh.

"You didn't like it?" Loki stared at the drain, watching the coffee spiral and fall out of sight, and he missed the warmth it had given his palms.

"I didn't try it." He walked backwards out of the kitchen and past Thor's penetrating gaze, boring into his back as he moved to his room, passing through the doorway and promptly slamming the door in his wake.

Thor sighed shakily and stood to make another cup of coffee for Loki just before Jane walked through the door, padding softly and groggily across the soft carpet of the commons area before entering the kitchen, her eyes trained warily on the door to Loki's bedroom, her dark hair tangled and curling at her shoulders.

When she finally made it over to sit at the stool Loki'd been sitting in moments before, she blinked lazily, and Thor noticed lines imprinted upon her cheek from where the bed sheets had wrinkled beneath her, and he smiled despite his mood, reaching across the counter to brush the back of his hand along one of the many marks.

She brought her hand up to wrap her slender fingers around his wrist and smiled lovingly, watching him as he moved away to fix a cup of coffee. He slid the drink over to her and she wrapped her hands around it gratefully, making a thankful noise as she began to drink it without hesitation, not caring about how hot it was. He sat down and watched her in silence until she was finished, and she set the cup down gingerly, staring at him with a raised brow.

"You've been crying," she whispered, and he realized that she thought Loki was still asleep instead of sulking in his room, and was whispering for his sake. He frowned, remembering far too many things that he would like to forget, and took her hand. Jane felt the desire for reassurance in his grip and laid her hand over his knuckles comfortingly.

"Loki doesn't want my company; I fear he doesn't want anyone's company." She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped, taking a breath and trying to figure out what to say to the blonde who was dejectedly staring at her coffee mug, blue eyes so very, intensely sad.

"He's in shock. I'm sure he'll come around," Jane offered, and he smiled humorlessly, raking his gaze over her face before finally meeting her chestnut eyes.

"But what if he doesn't? What if Loki becomes lost to me, rots away somewhere in the prison they'll surely put him in? What if he spends his _entire_ mortal life despising every person he sees, so caught up in his mind? I…_can't_ let that happen. I _must_ convince Loki that there is more to life than the desire to end it, that of others and himself…"

Jane blinked in surprise, tilting her head.

"Loki's…suicidal?" Thor's eyes widened, as if he'd just been caught spilling a big secret, and he swallowed, shoulders lowering.

"He…did something, a long time ago. I don't know if he knew what would happen, but…I saw how he looked. He was…_destroyed_; I'd never seen anyone look like that. It was as if everything in him was gone, as if he was empty."

He swallowed, frowning at the drink as his gaze fell for the second time.

"Either that or…everything was overflowing within him, simply too much to handle. I'm not certain anymore, about anything." Jane squeezed his fingers and he looked up at the pressure, pressing his lips together and hoping to find the solution to his problems somewhere within her warm gaze.

"There's a part of him that loves you, Thor; there's also a part that hates you." She furrowed her brow and scooted closer to the counter, eager to be nearer to him, smiling gently.

"He's so moody all the time, and it's because he doesn't know what to do. He's as lost as you were when you first came here, maybe even more. Just…give him time. You're the only person he regrets hurting-don't forget that."

Thor smiled, sniffling, and she silently inspected the cuts on his skin, already scabbed over, before glancing down at the bandage on his hand, making a mental note to re-wrap the wound when she got the chance. Thor stood and poured himself a cup of coffee, and Jane watched his hair catch the sunlight like a long-sought-after prize, the strands shining gold in the rays sneaking from the living room windows.

Behind the bedroom door, Loki sunk down to the hardwood, his back pressed against the door as he drew his knees up to his chest, fingers shaking. He felt numb, the pain he'd suffered yesterday now like a single ghost sensation misting over his body, and he'd never experienced such exhaustion in his life.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the door, and a cold tear trailed down his cheek, Jane's perceptive words echoing in his head long after she retired to the living room to watch a movie with Thor, the fresh smell of popcorn and butter wafting beneath the door and cloaking his room.

There had never been a time when he'd felt so guilty for pouring a drink out of a cup.

...

_Frigga's curling locks fell upon his face as he nestled into her arms, content to listen to her lilting voice all night long. She had a way with stories, a relationship with words that he both envied and admired, and it was for this reason that he felt compelled to gaze up at her youthful face and watch the exact movement of her lips as she murmured to him, blue eyes bright and trained on his toddler face. Her motherly smile warmed him like nothing else, and Loki laughed as she tickled his side, smirking in amusement when he wrapped his chubby fingers around her hand. She paused in her story to lean over and press a gentle, feather-soft kiss against his ebony hair, her palm warm on his back as she held him in her lap. _

_..._

"I'm just saying," Tony suggested casually, shrugging as Pepper walked beside him. "We shouldn't go back-ditch the merry trio and skip town, go to some remote island and live off my endless wealth." He turned to her with bright eyes, cocking a brow. "It would be great, Pep."

Steve frowned beside the red head, narrowing his eyes. "And where do we fit into that picture?"

Natasha smirked at the comment as she moved at his side, her hair looking fiery and alive in the glaring lights of the mall, two giant bags in her hands.

"I just don't know why _I_ have to carry a murderer's _accommodations._" Pepper glanced at the spy and frowned in concern. "I can carry them if you wan-"

"_Aaaanyway_," Tony interrupted slowly, "how much do you want to bet that Loki's released all hell in my living room?"

With her free hand, Natasha fished in her pocket for a ten dollar bill and slapped it into Tony's open palm with a confident gleam in her eyes. Steve watched the transaction and laughed, and her smiled widened.

...

_"Legend has it that she once resided over Valhalla, as your father does now," Frigga whispered seriously, enjoying the way Loki seemed so captured within her words, and she couldn't help the way her smile softened at the sight of his widened, bright green eyes, staring unblinking up at her from his perch on her lap. He laid a small hand on her arm, still unused to using his words, still unaccustomed to speaking and disturbing the silence he often cherished too much. She carded her fingers through his locks and laughed, using her magic to glean the words from his mind, and he smiled at the touch of her power upon him, already capable of detecting it, even if he didn't know what it was. He only knew that it belonged to his mother. _

_"It's only a legend, Loki. She's not real. Besides, Odin is far too powerful to be overthrown. It's just not the way of things." He blinked and smiled toothily, chubby cheeks pink and soft to the touch when she brushed her fingers against his skin lovingly, and the queen, left to her own devices after Odin left on a hunting trip with Thor to begin teaching him the "ways of things", sighed in the quiet of her chambers, pretending that Loki could understand her at his young age, pretending that the small frost giant was her son, pretending and talking and hoping it would come true in the years to come, knowing all too well that there was a great split already separating her family. _

_..._

Halfway through the movie, Thor was out of coffee, having already drunken three cups and dutifully avoided going to the restroom for fear of disturbing Jane's attention to the TV screen, and he found himself thirsty for another cup as he sat with one arm wrapped about her warm shoulders, the shell of her ear pressed to his bicep as she rested her head against him. He could smell the fresh scent lingering in her hair from the shower she'd taken earlier, and the ever increasing weight of her on his skin told him that she was falling asleep, somehow still tired after slumbering most of the day away. He thought to get up for more coffee, but hesitated when she snuggled closer to him, smiling slightly as her lids fell closed, and he made the decision to sit in still, thirsty silence so she wouldn't wake up and lose her rest.

To his right, a mug appeared, with steaming coffee resting hot inside its confines, attached to pale and familiarly slender fingers that shook just the slightest. He turned his head and saw Loki standing behind the sofa at his shoulder, looking down at him with an empty gaze as he offered the coffee to Thor. He hadn't heard his brother's approach, and Loki was sneaky even for a mortal, comforted by silence. The blonde's eyes widened with surprise before he smiled, the most relieved light in his eyes, and took the cup gratefully before straining to set it down on the coffee table.

Loki released his hold on it with an awkward sort of reluctance and began to turn away and head back from where he came, and for a moment Thor was going to let him. He was going to let Loki slip away, just like all of the other times he'd slipped so easily past all of the defenses and hopes and words and relations, just like all of the times he'd slipped away and found himself lost to everyone and everything, just like all of the times Thor had blamed himself for Loki and all that Loki did. _Never again._ He reached out and wrapped his burly fingers around Loki's thin arm, curling his fingers about his knobby elbow, the jutting bones felt easily beneath the cotton shirt he wore. He stopped, shoulders tense, and hesitantly turned to face Thor, as if afraid of something, and the blonde had never seen such a look in Loki's eyes.

They were children again, as oblivious to the world as it was to them, naïve and hopeful and filled with the desire to be together, to love one another, to play and spar and laugh and enjoy the mere presence of the other. His gaze was so widely fearful, so childishly terrified, so pitiable and intensely vulnerable. There were tears threatening to spill over onto his cheeks, and Thor tugged him over, beckoning him. Loki came around and glanced down at Jane, curled up at Thor's left side, and at the empty space to Thor's right.

Thor patted the cushion and the corners of Loki's lips curled up into a small smile.

...

When the team finally made it home, bags in hand (but mostly in Natasha's hands), they were all shocked to realize that they'd all lost the bet, since they'd made a pool not entirely in Loki's favor.

But they'd been wrong, it seemed, for there, upon the three-cushioned sofa before the TV screen lit up with end credits, was Thor, one arm wrapped lovingly about Jane's body as she snoozed against him, completely out cold.

And on his other side rested Loki, his body slack against the armrest, as if he'd tried to scoot away from his brother but failed in the end, since Thor's other arm protectively circled around his waist, pulling the bottom half of his body toward the middle of the sofa while the upper half clung to the very edge, as if no harm could come to him of Thor was near, even in sleep. Natasha stopped when she entered the room, as did everyone else, and set the bags down on the floor quietly, staring at the trio.

She'd never seen Loki look so utterly _peaceful,_ and the sight unnerved her. A killer, sleeping like that and looking so innocent and content, but the revulsion she expected to feel didn't come, and her eyes shifted to a mug of coffee sitting, cold and untouched, upon the table.

**Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

Loki woke in a chair, blinking away the bright glare of the TV screen as he struggled to sit up within the cocoon of blankets tucked meticulously around him, eyes narrowed to slits as he surveyed the living room. The drapes were pulled aside to reveal the night and all its glowing lights and stars and skyscrapers, all carefully watched over by the moon hanging overhead.

He shook his head to rid it of the foggy sensation falling upon it and looked at his bedroom door, which was closed-just like he'd left it. The room was silent, and the television was muted, and he wondered at the quiet atmosphere, guessing that Jane was downstairs sleeping, imagining Stark and Potts in their so-called 'guest' room on the same level. Thor was most likely in the room at the end of the hall that resided beside Loki's bedroom, but the trickster couldn't understand why he didn't just sleep with his mortal.

There was no telling where the others were, and Loki became uneasy with the lack of knowledge, the ignorance that came over him and threatened his security.

Romanoff was problematic, capable of sneaking but unable to sneak up on, and he'd admired her for the ability, but hated her for it just the same. She was him as he might have been, in a different place and different time, and the thought unnerved him more than he'd ever admit, both jealous of her life and terrified of his envy; envy was always the ghost of admiration, and he'd never be caught dead admiring _her_. Slowly, he stood, keeping an eye out for the Captain as he softly padded across the carpet.

Looking up at the clock, he was surprised to discover that the night was almost over.

Sighing, he went over and crossed the line of intersection between the living room and kitchen, where the plush carpet met the cold tile, and sat atop one of the bar stools, resting his head against the marble countertop. He could feel the cool surface against his cheek, but it didn't eradicate the warmth still remaining within him.

It was a live, burning thing, lessened by time but intensified by attention, and he closed his eyes in the hopes of a few more hours of sleep, wishing that he could shut down his thoughts to avoid becoming even more feverish from the fire inside him. He heard Frigga somewhere in his memories, and the flames eating him from the inside died down just the slightest as he smiled.

_"No one knows, Loki," Frigga murmured laughingly, gazing down at Loki as he bounced alongside her down the palace hall, seven-year-old eyes sparkling up at her curiously as his eager fingers squeezed her own._

_"But everyone has a name," he said plainly, baffled that not a soul had knowledge of the woman or her title._

_"Mine is Loki." He gestured to himself with one small hand, green gaze wide and round as his dark hair fell down past his forehead and bounced up again as he all but ran beside her._

_"Yours is Mother." She smiled at him and tightened her hold on his hand as the echo of his tiny footsteps sounded all around her._

_"Is she nameless then?"_

_"No, Loki. She has a name, but it cannot be remembered." She leaned over and scooped him up into her arms, laughing as he wrapped his short arms around her neck lovingly, his warmth comforting as she rested her chin on his dark head of hair._

_"There are rumors…" He perked up at this, and as he turned to gaze at her imploringly, she saw the flash of red in his eyes, the ghost of what he was beneath all the magic and glamour, the true Loki as he would never be, as he would never know, as he would never see. She didn't let her smile falter, though, and she whispered lowly to him, her blue eyes lit up with a mother's love, a mother's secret._

_"They call her Grace."_

With his eyes wide open, Loki looked possessed, glassily gazing at the world in his sleep, curled over the counter with his face turned away from the door. Tony waved a hand in front of the trickster's face and pulled back, wary.

"I still think he's faking it," he muttered as he turned to get the coffee filters out of the cabinet. Thor, seated beside his brother, shook his head and looked to the seat he'd moved out of his room for Loki the night before, blankets still wrapped upon the cushion as if Loki had crawled carefully out of them to keep their shape. And there he was at the counter, sleeping the day away when there was so much to be done, so much to be realized.

"He used to do this all the time; just be glad he didn't roam in his sleep last night." Tony swiveled on his heels, filter in hand, one brow raised.

"He sleepwalks?" Thor nodded, and Tony's shoulders slumped as he leaned against the counter behind him.

"_Great_." He turned back around to prepare the coffee maker, and Pepper watched him from her seat on one of the stools near him. Steve listened as he sat on the sofa, but he was distracted by his tedious efforts to pretend like he was watching his favorite show. Instead, he gazed protectively at Natasha, who stood by the floor length windows with her hands crossed behind her back, a bracelet donning one wrist. She had on a black undershirt, her jacket strewn on the back of Loki's chair, her hair curled at the ends. He thought it was natural, and blinked when he realized that he'd been staring too long.

"_Absolutely_ perfect." Tony's muttering grew angered, and he slammed the sugar down on the counter.

"This is _wonderful_. Not _only_ is there a murderer living with us, but he _sleepwalks_, too. Oh, boy! That's just awesome. Better sleep with one eye open, Pep."

Frowning, she reached over the counter and put a gentle hand on his arm, his muscles tense as he turned back around. He slammed the sugar again, and the noise woke Loki, who blinked and sat up with a start. Natasha was turned, then, and saw how Loki sat up, how ready his body seemed for a fight, how tense his posture was. She narrowed her eyes, and Steve turned to follow her gaze, eyeing him suspiciously. Thor smiled at Loki's wakefulness and clapped him on the shoulder, laughing.

"You look well-rested, brother." Unbeknownst to them, Tony, facing the cabinets, rolled his eyes and grabbed a bottle from one of the cupboards, one with no label and housing a dark, thick liquid. Pepper watched him with a wary gaze, but ignored his actions for everyone else's sake, fingers shaking nervously as she drank her own cup of coffee.

Loki was confused, that much was clear, but he masked it well enough that only the spy glaring at him could discern the truth from his impassive expression. He cleared his throat, drumming his fingers on the counter, and nodded politely at Thor as the blonde retracted his hand, smiling at how Loki was finally calm, finally so collected among the people he'd claimed to have hated for so long.

"Panic attacks suit you, Stark," Loki drawled suddenly and casually, a smirk painting his features, and Steve drew his brows together in frustration.

"Hey! He can't help it, you know," he defended passionately, and Loki turned to send him a withering glare.

"Really?"

Steve stood, annoyed at Loki's lack of empathy.

"Yes, really! You're the whole reason he has those attacks, and you think you have the right to comment on them?" Thor got up from his chair and approached the captain as Tony looked on, panting as he tried to calm his pounding heart and shot nerves, and Thor placed a placating hand on Steve's arm, eyes sad.

"Captain, Loki still isn't well. He doesn't know-"

"Stop making up excuses for him!" He shook off Thor's arm and backed away, blue eyes bright with anger.

"Loki knows _exactly_ what he's doing; he's always known! Every single thing he does is planned months in advance. He's not a child, Thor, and he's _not_ that same little brother you're always talking about, like you can bring him back with a few kind words. He's _gone_."

He gestured to Loki, at his gaunt face, at the bones jutting out beneath the mortal clothes he wore, at the dark circles under his bright green eyes.

"Can't you see that?" Thor turned to Loki, and he looked so worn and saddened by Steve's words that Loki had to avert his gaze, jaw tensed as he ground his teeth together to keep his emotions from surfacing. Steve began again, but his voice was far gentler the second time around.

"All you've done so far is imprisoned him in his own mind. You haven't changed him; nothing ever will. He's done too much and gone too far for everything to magically go back to normal. Whatever you see when you look at him, Thor, whatever version of Loki that is staring back at you in your mind-that's not real. It never will be again."

Thor blinked and there were tears in his eyes, brightening his gaze and warming his face, and he stalked off across the room and down the stairs to Jane's room, the clothes she had bought him wrinkling around his aggravated muscles as he disappeared from view. Loki watched him go and was glad to be rid of his presence; at the moment, he'd had enough of his suffocating brother and the emotions that came with him. Steve deflated after Thor's exit and fell back onto the sofa, looking down at his hands as if there was blood coating his fingers, gaze horrified. Natasha watched him, and Loki noticed a glint of sadness in her eyes.

Tony turned and slid a cup of coffee onto the counter, frowning as he took one of his own and brought it to his lips.

"Drink up, Reindeer Games," he all but growled, and Loki's eyes narrowed to slits.

"Aren't you busy having one of your attacks?" The billionaire shrugged and swallowed a sip of the warm drink.

"I don't have time to entertain you." He held up another drink and gestured to Steve.

"Want some?" The Captain shook his head, and he shrugged before walking around the counter, watching how Loki glared at the cup before him. He hooked a finger around the handle and pulled it closer to inspect its contents.

"How do I know it's not poisoned?" Loki asked seriously, and Tony smirked at him.

"Pepper saw me make it, and Thor would kill me if I murdered you. But then again, it wouldn't be that bad of a way to die, if I took you down with me." He walked off, then, and Pepper rushed after him, her scolding whispers hot in his ear, and Loki's eyes followed him, a specific kind of loathing shining therein.

He left the cup steaming on the counter and walked off to his room, irritated and even more so at the unknown source of his aggravation. He slammed the door when he made it to his room, using enough force to make it shake the floor, using enough anger to wish it would bring the whole tower down, burying him and everyone else in the world amidst the rubble, never to resurface.

**Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

Loki slipped silently out of his bedroom when morning came, and Tony looked up in mild surprise from his usual perch behind the counter, staring at the dark circles under the trickster's eyes that spoke volumes about the night he'd had. Thor turned as he sat on the sofa, his arm around Jane, and smiled hesitantly, blue eyes scanning his brother's face searchingly for any signs of hostility, and when he didn't find any, he jumped up, murmuring to Jane quickly before rushing over to sit down beside the seat he knew Loki would take, completely missing Jane's terse glare at his back, thrown over her shoulder from where she was watching the news. Loki sent him an empty, emotionless glance, only darkened by exhaustion, and his eyes fell to the cold cup of coffee from the previous morning, and he took hold of it and pressed the mug rim to his lips, chugging it down in only a few gulps, while Tony stared at him, wide-eyed, his face wrinkled in disgust. Loki set the cup down roughly on the counter, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, standing before the bar stool, seemingly reluctant to sit down.

"Do you even _have_ taste buds? That's been sitting there _all night_," Tony questioned in disbelief, brow furrowed as he gave Loki a judgmental stare. Loki looked around him, sighing.

"Your point?" He blinked, tilting his head absently.

"I assume Pepper is off avoiding me," he observed, distant, and looked to the chair, where Steve was sitting, his gaze flitting from Natasha to Loki so that he could properly glare at him for the comment, and Loki smirked, a sudden life coming to his features. Tony flicked something off of the counter and smiled.

"She's smarter than the rest of us, then."

Loki's eyes moved to Jane, and she turned back around at the abrupt silence, meeting his meaningful glare with one of her own, and Loki wished, not for the first time, that he was telepathic. Her presence was a quiet reminder of their deal, and yet he found that he couldn't hold a grudge for her lack of trying on her side of that agreement. The fact that he couldn't get angry at someone for something wrong that_ they'd_ done unsettled Loki, and he instantly turned his attention away, eager to rid himself of the feeling, and so he watched Natasha, sitting in a corner chair that he'd never noticed before. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she crossed her legs comfortably, a smirk glinting in her eyes.

"Why are you all always here?" He turned back to Thor for the answer, gazing at him imploringly, but before he could open his mouth, Tony spoke casually.

"We want to all be ready kill you at a moment's notice." He looked up from pouring himself a drink, the tinkling of the amber liquid falling against the glass a loud sound in the hushed air. "You know, if we have to."

The official voice of the news reporters on the TV screen served as a soft background noise, and Tony glanced down at his watch, smiling like he was pleased with himself, as Loki glanced away, apparently distracted by something on the screen. Natasha stood, stretching, and disturbed the whole atmosphere of the room, and Steve turned to her, one brow raised.

"I'm going to go to bed. Yell if you need me." She began to walk away, and Steve swallowed, eyes narrowed.

"But you just woke up," he said inquisitively, and she turned in his direction as she left, eyes bright, but didn't respond, and Loki watched Steve slump in his seat. Tony rested his elbows on the counter and leaned over it, sliding close to Thor with a small smile haunting his face.

"What's Loki like when he's drunk?" Thor looked to him in surprise, but the ghost of memory flashed across his gaze and he smiled faintly, remembering something.

"I've only ever seen Loki intoxicated a mere handful of times, but whenever he is, it's like a switch; it's like he's sober one second and in the next he's not. It's odd, with him, considering that he doesn't act like you'd expect."

"What does he do, exactly?" Tony asked quietly, almost whispering, and Thor replied in a whisper, as well, encouraged by Tony's own actions. Loki blinked, shaking his head like something had bit him, and a confused, brief look befell him.

"He doesn't lose any of his physical awareness. He might act…relaxed, but he never falls or stumbles or runs into things." Thor chewed on his bottom lip, stifling his laughter as another memory came to the forefront of his mind.

"His tongue slips, frequently." Tony's brow furrowed.

"What?" Thor looked to him, smiling sadly as he realized that the Loki in his head was now a long lost memory, a bittersweet sensation washing over him as he blinked away tears, remembering himself and Tony's question.

"He says whatever comes to mind, regardless of whether he thinks he should or not. He would make jests at our mother, even, when he had a single glass of wine. It was all in good faith, though, since we knew he couldn't really control it."

The smirk on Tony's face grew, and by the end of it, he was shaking with suppressed laughter, taking a seat at his bar stool and rubbing his hands together, digging his phone out of his pocket to take a video. Loki watched Steve as the captain looked so forlorn in his seat, looking distractedly down at his hands, and the trickster sidled over to where Jane was sitting, plopping down on the empty cushion beside her, and she jumped at his sudden presence, wide eyes surprised. He laid an arm on the back of the sofa, looking over to Jane with an amused, lazy grin on his face, and she swallowed, uncomfortable with how unpredictable the situation had turned. Steve glanced up and glared at Loki, and the action seemed to beckon Loki's attention, for he turned and showed the same smile to the captain. His eyes were glassy, and they shined brightly before the windows just behind Steve, who felt overly scrutinized beneath Loki's gaze.

Tony hit the 'record' button on his phone, a devilish smile on his face and shining in his eyes.

"You hate me," Loki observed softly, seemingly happy about the fact, and leaned forward, clasping his hands together as he rested his elbows on his knees. Steve didn't know where the man was taking the conversation, but he finally decided to play along, frustrated.

"For good reason," he muttered lowly, so Thor wouldn't hear, and Jane raised an eyebrow. Loki's smile only widened, and he lifted his index finger, pointing at the blond.

"You hate me because you only see in two distinct colors. You see in black and white, in good and evil, in right and wrong. It's an inaccurate view, if I may say so myself." Steve leaned forward, gaze heated with anger as his nostrils flared.

"_No_. I know what deception looks like," he ground out, blue eyes bright with loathing. Loki leaned back, glancing to his hands.

"I expect that you would, given how often you watch her." Steve raised his head, curiosity taking precedence over the fury gleaming in his stare, and his jaw muscles tensed.

"Her?"

"Agent Romanoff," Loki drawled, glancing at his knuckles, and Jane's mouth parted in surprise as she saw small, tiny cuts over the skin there, partly distracted by the information Loki had just released. The trickster glanced up, meeting Steve's eyes.

"What? It was _hardly_ a secret." Jane leaned in, encouraged by the captain's silence.

"_I _like secrets," she said to Loki, and he turned to her, smiling.

"The captain carries affection for the spy."

"I do _not_," Steve interjected, indignant, and Loki chuckled.

"You sound like a petulant child." Steve's hands balled into fists, and Loki's eyes flickered to them as he smiled, leaning forward further.

"You see, Captain, just as you believe that the spy holds no affection for you, so have I been misinterpreted." Steve narrowed his eyes, swallowing past the lump in his throat at the mention of Natasha.

"I'm not excusing myself or my actions, but I do know that there is far more residing in between than there has ever been on either side. I know the colors of black and white, but I am all too familiar with the grey areas in the middle. Perhaps you should get to know them, as well, and you might be able to figure out your own situation." He shrugged and let out a slow sigh, and Jane smelled coffee on his breath, but it couldn't mask the scent of alcohol, and she stifled her gasp nervously, knowing that Loki would never willingly make himself so vulnerable around enemies. She immediately thought of Tony and felt scared for the man. Loki's revenge was a definitely unwanted thing, and he'd just made himself next on the hit list. Loki stood and brushed something invisible from his pants.

"After all, it has been those exact areas that have perplexed you in the past. Correct?"

He walked off, and Jane turned in her seat to watch his loose, lazy gait, eyeing the way he seemed to drag across the floor, and he turned just before he went to his room as Thor watched him, his expression a classically comical one, filled with questions and no answers. Loki waved, wiggling his fingers, and disappeared through the doorway as the door shut quietly behind him. She looked back at Steve and saw that he was staring intently at his hands, his face flushed.

...

Loki entered his room and then stopped, staring at the person lounging on his bed. Natasha saw him and sat up, crossing her legs as she leaned against the headboard.

"I was wondering when you'd get here," she said quietly, amusement laced in every syllable. Loki decided not to question her presence, since he knew that he'd seen her disappear down the stairs on her way to her room and also knew that the agent had a knack for sneaking into places. He carried the trait, as well, but his developing headache, a sudden, irritating throbbing in his skull, prevented him from thinking about it further, and he sighed and took a seat at the edge of the bed, glancing fleetingly at the picture of Pepper on the nightstand. He turned his attention to the spy before him, her red curls bright in the dim lighting as her eyes roamed over him curiously.

"You seem…different." Loki made a face, and she would have laughed if she was in a laughing kind of mood. The spy was rarely ever in a laughing kind of mood, even more so now that Clint was away and probably in danger, danger that she couldn't save him from.

"Do I?" Loki asked absently, shaking his head at her.

"Why are you here, Agent Romanoff? I do believe I've already offended enough people today to want to avoid putting you on the list, as well." She raised a brow at him, cocking her head, and crossed her arms against her chest, smirking.

"So how many people you offend actually matters to you now?" He shrugged, wincing as his headache flared up, like fire running through his sinuses, and he recognized the effects, eyes narrowing into slits.

"I try to keep it mild, you know that." He leaned back to give her an observing glance.

"But I don't think you snuck into my room just to comment about my daily limit on hurting feelings." Natasha swallowed, steeling herself, and sighed quietly, and Loki thought that it was the only true glimpse he'd ever gotten inside the Black Widow's mind.

"I want you to stop egging Steve on." Loki threw his head back and laughed, but immediately regretted it as pain blossomed in his head, and he started to ache all over, just like the pain was snaking through his veins. He winced, but still managed to smirk at her as she glared at him, annoyed with his response.

"Steve has been through a lot, and I'm sure you bring up memories that he'd rather forget; you sure as hell do with the rest of us. You don't underst-"

"I know that man better than you think _you_ know him, Agent Romanoff," Loki interrupted, sounding almost offended, "I see his life as it is written in his eyes, as I see yours." Natasha stared at him, knowing deep down that he was telling the truth, and knowing, far deeper than she could willingly go, that she could see Loki's life, too, in that panicked stare of his, and she scooted to the edge of the bed and stood to leave, but he grabbed her before she could, his fingers circling carefully around the thin bones of her wrist, like they were fragile, and she looked down at him, wary and terrified of herself and her thoughts.

"Similarity is not always a dreadful thing," he murmured, eyes wide and round and just a bit pleading, and she swallowed, angry at herself for seeming weak, and ripped her arm out of his grasp, leaving his room in the most obvious manner that she could. Loki's shoulders lowered, and he knew that Steve was no doubt watching her walk out of his room with a surprised, angered look on his face-maybe even a hurt one.

...

Jane watched Natasha leave and managed to simultaneously watch Steve's reaction, taking into account the new connection she'd just discovered, and things started to make sense to her, finally. She slid over onto the cushion Loki had been on and swallowed, preparing herself for an awkward conversation with Steve.

"He's not so bad, you know," she started, perhaps wrongly so, because Steve looked to her like she was completely out of her mind, and she shrugged, "when he's not so angsty and…murderous, I mean." She started to smile, but gave up, sighing inwardly as she tapped her finger against her knee, nodding awkwardly.

"He's…difficult, I know, but-"

"He's evil," Steve interrupted, his expression impassive, and she laughed.

"I know, but Thor loves him. And I love Thor, so I can't hate the guy completely. And you love Thor, too. He's your friend; you all love him in your own kind of way." She swallowed nervously, shaking her head as she gave up with trying to convince him of Loki's non-bloody tendencies.

"There are two sides to him," she murmured quietly, "and you need to decide which side you're blind to, because it's pretty obvious to me." She stood, shoving her hands into her pockets for lack of something better to distract herself with.

"Just…don't become his biggest fan or anything, but at least give him a tiny chance. Thor changed his whole outlook in a matter of days. Who's to say that Loki can't, too?" She walked away, off to go talk with Thor and have a scolding conversation with Tony, leaving Steve to stare after her, eyes wide and confused, heart pounding from the memories coming to the surface.

...

Later, when Loki was hunched over the edge of the bed with an arm wrapped about his stomach, just about ready to vomit from his throbbing, pulsing headache that had become a full, single body ache, he heard a knock at his door, and the sound of sliding paper broke the silence. Intrigued, he carefully padded across the room, wary of worsening his pain and increasing nausea, and he slowly bent down to pick up the folded piece of paper that had found a way into his room from the space beneath the door.

Unfolding it, he saw messy writing scrawled across it in pen ink, and felt his blood boil at the message.

_It's a special brand. Starts fast and ends fast. Enjoy your night. _

_ -Tony_

He'd never ripped up a piece of paper so aggressively in all of his life.

**Hey, guys, _please_ tell me if there's an error or typo in these chapters. I was scrolling through the last chapter and found two typos that I'd never noticed before, one of which had me laughing a whole lot. So,_ por favor_, mi amigos? ;D**

**Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

_The palace stood tall and proud, magnificent in the sunlight cast down upon its golden, glittering walls, glorious and worthy of all the admiration that could be bestowed in all of the world. It remained untouched, wonderfully untarnished by the Elves' attack and set apart from time, and Loki realized that this was a place he had never known, a place he had never seen. _

_It was perfect, living and basking in a time long before his own, a time long before Odin and his father and his father's father, a time long, long before. There was such a tranquility in the air, and he found himself before the wide doors, walking in as if he was a welcome guest, as if the halls were eager to house him, as if the floor felt anxious to let him walk upon it._

_ It was, admittedly, a nice change, and in the next moment he was in the throne room, kneeling with his fist to his heart, head held low as he cast his gaze upward. The throne had not changed, and he wondered if Asgard truly was the realm Eternal, if nothing could ever be completely destroyed. _

_There was a woman lounging on its seat, a woman with long, flowing hair that he likened instantly to the pale color of the moon, eyes void of pupil and iris alike, skin silvery in the candlelight bathing her from all sides. The air was still and silent, and she looked down at him, lifting her chin just as she beckoned him forward with her outstretched hand, and he walked over to take her palm in his own, and the action seemed so natural, so instinctual, that it would have scared Loki-if he didn't feel so at peace. _

_"You are the one that killed Odin," she observed slowly, her voice even and laced with the oddest accent he'd ever heard, her words echoing throughout what seemed like all of Asgard, and she leaned forward to press her other hand to his cheek, "I commend you." _

_He stared at her, captivated, and she gazed at him serenely, peacefully, satisfied with something he couldn't realize, for once, and reclined back in her seat._

_ "Who are you?" Loki asked breathlessly, and the memory of her touch suddenly burned him, felt as if it was sucking the energy from him, felt as if it was slowly killing him from the inside, and he collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air as he looked up to her pleadingly, and he caught the slow flash of her smile just before darkness overcame his vision. _

Loki woke with a racing pulse, panting as he sat up, the sheets clinging to his sweat-slicked skin as he pulled them aside to sit on the edge of the bed.

It had been a month longer spent at the Tower, a month more fully defined by Jane's lack of skills at persuasion and Steve and Natasha's prolonged ignorance.

It had been a month filled with uneasy, tense encounters with Tony and irritatingly imploring looks from Thor, and wary, nervous glances given by a skittish Pepper. It seemed that he was the source of discomfort for everyone, and he rather liked it that way.

Another month more had Loki's nerves frazzled from the close proximity, had his body aching in ways it had never done before, had him feeling weaker than ever. His magic had never seemed farther from him and his mind had never seemed worse, and he could feel the slow, intense decline of his sanity as his dreams quickly turned into nightmares.

The woman cloaked in white, the woman that, he'd learned, held some unbelievable grudge against the ruling men of Asgard, appeared in his slumber almost every night, and he was plagued, haunted even, with the image of her. He started, after appearing less hostile than he'd been two years ago (talking with Thor in a civil manner, giving Steve the space Natasha-and when had he started calling her by her first name?- had requested, bantering with Jane when he was especially bored, ignoring Stark to the best of his ability, and laughing when Pepper felt the need to walk into a room and leave in the next moment upon seeing him), to withdraw from the life that had been cast upon him. He began, rather unbeknownst to him, to slowly retreat into his own mind, and finally, _finally_, someone noticed.

It had always been such a rare thing in Asgard, something unheard of, for someone to notice Loki's change in behavior, his darkening mood and all that came with it, and so it came as a surprise when a mere mortal could see the change sparking within him.

But what came as more of a shock was their identity. On one of the many nights that he preferred sleepless hours over nightmarish images, Loki was seated at the counter, twirling a glass of water in his hand, staring blankly at the swirl of the liquid as he failed to notice the sound of footsteps to his right. There was a loud, tired sigh and he glanced up, startled, to see someone stepping out of the shadows, scratching his head groggily with his eyes squinted and stressed, taking a seat near Loki. The trickster doubted that they were aware of him, and so he remained silent, watching as they took a bottle of alcohol and started drinking from it in a futile effort to drown out the night.

He'd heard all about Steve, as of late, from Natasha, who claimed that the sole reason she had for telling Loki about the Captain's background was that in order to calm the discord between them, he needed to first understand Steve.

Loki recalled the bit of information she'd once given him-that the soldier was incapable of becoming intoxicated. He frowned as he watched Steve guzzle down the amber liquid.

"Rough night?" Loki asked lowly, afraid of waking the others, and Steve nearly dropped the bottle clutched in his hand, jumping in his seat as he looked to Loki, eyes searching in the darkness to find his face, his body tense with preparation for a fight, and Loki held out placating hands, taking a long, slow breath.

"We…all have them," he continued awkwardly, and the urge to leave came over him, washing over his thoughts and cloaking them with logic, and yet he stayed. Steve relaxed the slightest, but his grip on the bottle was steely, his blue gaze wary as he nodded reluctantly.

"…Yeah, I guess."

Loki tapped his fingers on the countertop and set down his glass, feeling completely out of his element, and thought for a moment to let that instinct to leave take him to his room, but the image of Natasha, the memory of her conversation with him only nights before (her eyes bright, lips pulled down in worry as she spoke of Steve's emotional decline after all that he'd been through, red hair lit like fire in the dying sunlight pouring in from the window, voice quiet and conflicted as she realized, as she might have finally realized, that her feelings ran deeper than friendship), made him stay where he was, made him want to glean from Steve a sense of reason, a motivation that could help Loki understand him better.

He sighed, and Steve gave him a distrustful look.

"Why are you up?" Steve asked cautiously, and Loki looked to him in the darkness, grinning, but amusement was not what shone in his eyes, and the soldier took a drink from the bottle, wishing that it could magically make him oblivious again, wishing that it could turn back time-wishing that it could do anything and everything that it couldn't.

"Nightmares-the usual," Loki offered casually, looking down at his reflection in the marble surface of the counter, tracing the light in his gaze that he felt, even knew, was slowly dwindling and dying, and he couldn't figure out why. He glanced up, meeting Steve's eyes.

"You?" The Captain looked away and shook his head, but not before Loki caught the flash of grief on his face, and he frowned.

_He just needs a friend_, came Natasha's low, saddened voice in his memories, _and ever since he lost his whole life, that's been hard for him. _

Tracing how the shadows flickered on Steve's face, dancing across his eyes, Loki was reminded of Thor, melancholy, hopeless Thor holding Loki's dying body in his arms, cheeks reddened with sorrow as tears threatened to pour from those painfully familiar eyes. How ironic that Steve should have the exact same kind of eyes, with the exact same look living permanently within them.

And so, he leaned forward, feeling compelled to say to Steve what he could not bear to say to Thor.

"Sometimes that which hurts us sustains us," he suggested quietly, and Steve glanced up at him, brow furrowed in confusion, and Loki thought that he'd never seen the brave, steely Captain look so vulnerable, and he saw a young Thor staring back at him, eyes lit with hope and smile filled with joy, and felt tears prick his eyes.

"Perhaps all of your pain is meant for something beyond you, something you can't realize until it's already come to pass."

Feeling odd, he stood, awash with shame that he had given such a strange mortal, and an enemy, no less, his insight, and he turned to walk to his room. He stopped before the doorway, glancing at his room from where he stood, watching the moonlight tickle the drawn curtains at the window.

"Perhaps you were destined for more than ice, Captain."

He walked away, closing the door behind him, and Steve was left staring at darkness, the alcohol that once burned his blood now nothing more than water in his grip, his eyes tearing up from the pain of the memories flashing in his mind, his thoughts racing to understand a person who, until that moment, he'd thought was all figured out.

He whispered to the shadows, "And maybe you were destined to be more than a murderer."

Loki heard the murmur from his place on the other side of the door, and he sunk down to the carpet, hanging his head in his hands.

_She was back, lounging on her throne with Gungnir held tightly in her grip, and it seemed, oddly, like the scepter was meant for her, like it was made to perfectly accommodate the form of her palm, and Loki knelt before her, tears dripping down his face. _

_"What do you want from me?" Loki asked hopelessly, and blood ran down his arms in thick rivers, pooling around the palms that were flattened against the golden floor. Tears streaked down to mingle with the droplets of crimson and he moaned in pain, his breath hitching in his throat as she stepped from her seat to lean down and take his chin in her hand, pulling his face up so that he could look her in the eyes. _

_"Your friends are in trouble," she whispered, and he shook his head, laughing mirthlessly. _

_"I have no friends." Her hand snaked up from his chin to caress his cheek, and her smile, though intimidating, was sad, and he swore that he saw life flash in her fathomless, empty eyes._

_ "The Asgardians are not your friends?" _

_A flash of white and she was gone, leaving him to bleed upon the cold, ancient floor._

**Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)**


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